


Indispensable

by Judge_Jury_Executioner



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2017-11-29 20:32:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 31,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/691149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Judge_Jury_Executioner/pseuds/Judge_Jury_Executioner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set post-Avengers (2012)</p><p>Darcy sets about making herself indispensable to S.H.I.E.L.D. A month later she stumbles upon an early morning meeting between Jane, Eric, Coulson, and Asgard's sexiest brothers. It looks like her early morning coffee runs are starting to pay off.</p><p>Eventual Darcy/Loki/M rating</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When Darcy met Loki

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys, this is my very first work of fiction in over five years. It's exciting to be writing for fun again ^.^ This is also my very first virtual step into fanfic, so any advice or comments would be hugely appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Not normally one to mope, Darcy was suffering a rare case of the womanly blues. Not normally one to suffer in silence, she had befriended a stray cat for the evening.

“Jane is so much smarter than me.”  
The cat blinked.  
“Eric is smarter than me.”  
The cat’s nose twitched.  
“Everyone is smarter than me”  
The cat remained largely disinterested.  
“They don’t even listen to the same music as me.”  
The cat looked up. Darcy imagined it lifting a little feline eyebrow at her, as if to say, “No shit, Little Miss Political Science.”  
“Oh, shit.”

Firstly, if you’re going to tell a cat your innermost secrets, the least you should do is give the thing a name.  
Secondly, Grey Beard is right, and if Grey Beard is right, Darcy is screwed.

Of the three little Earthlings who got caught up in the hot, sexy, topless mess that was Thor’s banishment, she remains the only one who isn't of use. If Hollywood has taught her anything, it’s that she's in a very precarious situation.

One hour, two tubs of caramel ice cream (for Darcy) and one tin of tuna (for Grey Beard) later, the moping starts to give way to the closest thing to rational practicality that Darcy has ever really experienced. Thus, Operation Indispensible is born. 

Shortly after Thor thundered (har har) his way back down the magical rainbow bridge of destiny, Jane, Eric, Darcy, and a seemingly infinite number of agents and scientists were relocated to a large, unassuming office building in which it was hoped they would uncover all the awesome magicky science secrets of the Almighty transport system. She thinks. It all has something to do with the gap between our science and their magic, and they’re the same thing, and this is about where Jane starts using large words with larger meanings.

To date, Darcy has spent most of her time downloading and listening to music. There are also multiple opportunities for people watching; watch the agents watch the scientists, watch the scientists watch the experiments, watch Darcy organise the data that the experiments spew forth. She also has to make sure that Jane eats regularly and that Eric gets his morning coffee, but she’s been doing that for so long it’s become habitual. 

So, really, if you ignore all the secrecy and otherworldliness, it’s just an office. And, really, if you go back a few months, Darcy is just a university student. So, Darcy did exactly what university taught her to do. She researched.

So, here we are. Two seasons of The Office, one of IT Crowd, a few episodes of Archer... Monday morning, Darcy is set and Stage One of Operation Indispensible is a go. Arming herself with a clipboard and her most serious pair of glasses, she starts gathering data.

Jane and Eric arrive at 7.30am, carrying coffee from the Italian cafe down the street. Darcy takes a peek in the bin when they’re done and carefully notes their orders. They each have their own offices, but spend most of their time in a large lab with ten other scientists. All ten are well acquainted with Darcy’s whimsical nature so nobody comments when she sidles amongst the work stations, peering into mugs and assessing pastry crumbs. “Frankly,” she hears one whisper, “it’s nice to have the place so quiet.” That day, she keeps record of the who and the when of every bagel, coffee, sandwich and chocolate.

On her way home she times the distance between all of the nearest cafes and coffee houses, stealing menus as she goes.

It takes her a week to come up with a food and beverage routine. Its colour coded and takes pride of place in her brand new splurge of an A4 diary. It takes a month for her to fully implement the system; slowly and carefully, so as to not arouse any suspicion. Slowly and carefully, to make sure she gets all the Agents names down pat. They look like clones and nobody wears any name badges. She takes little notes:

‘Agent Tilley; brunette with the tiny nose and crooked teeth; midnight shift; Earl Grey with a splash of milk; short black on Mondays’

‘Dr Sullivan; uber babe; green bedroom eyes and a wicked smirk; skim latte with half a sugar; will flirt for ham and cheese toasties after 3pm’

Stage One goes off without a single hiccup, and with a snappy salute to Thor (wherever he may be), she sets her mind to Stage Two.  
   
The first time Darcy meets Loki is purely accidental. It's 7.27am on a cloudy Thursday. She's balancing two lattes with skim, one with soy, two tall blacks, one mocha with extra sugar, twelve blueberry scones, and a hot chocolate for herself; college waitressing has done more for her career than any lousy college assignment. Jane, Eric and the other early risers are due any minute but there was a mistake with her order so she's running late and rushing. The two agents finishing up night duty nod at her as she slips them their orders and barrels onwards to the lift. They're looking tense, but she doesn't have time to stop and chat. Not that they'd tell her anything, anyway. She's only been been buttering them up for a little over a week. She's lucky to hear any gossip above her clearance level, but fingers crossed... 

With that optomistic thought, she crashes into her lab at exactly 7.30 with a triumphant smile, and promptly freezes. Staring back at her are two Norse Gods, two scientists, and one bemused Agent. Damnit, she doesn't know Coulson's order. He's been MIA for the last couple of months, since before she implemented Stage One. Come to think of it, she doesn't know what Norse Gods like, either, but if Thor's last visit was anything to go by... sugar. They like sugar, dipped in- 

And that's when she locks eyes on Loki. If she hadn't been frozen solid already, the malice in his eyes would've stopped her in her tracks. He'd been glaring at Thor’s back, but when he notices her attention his expression morphs into one of polite indifference. 

Nobody has said anything yet. Not even Coulson. Jane looks like a deer in headlights, Eric's pulse is visible on his forehead, and Thor is... about to envelope her in a giant hug. 

"Lady Darcy! Welcome! I must apologise, we were not expecting you so early!"  
"Whoa there, big guy, if you spill one drop of Eric's coffee there'll be hell to pay."  
"Ah, you have brought us refreshments! That is most kind!"  
"I locked that door," Coulson murmurs, the accusation nearly lost in his bland, slightly bemused expression. 

Darcy's eyes flick between Coulson, Thor and Loki. No way is she getting kicked out of this. Besides, all the coffee-centric research she’s been doing gives a girl a kind of java intuition. Deep breath.  
"Yup! Here we go- soy latte for Jane, tall blacks for Eric and Coulson, mocha for Thor and-"  
Oh.  
She looks down at her hot chocolate, extra thick, and then back up at Loki. One of his eyebrows has quirked up by the tiniest fraction. She lets out a whoosh of breath, "- and a hot chocolate to warm the heart of the destroyer of worlds. I've got sugar here, and there's milk over in the fridge if you need it. Oh! And scones. Thursday is blueberry day, starting now." 

Jane and Eric practically lurch forward, snaring their treats before scuttling back to their respective chairs. Coulson's eyes, narrowed into a very paternal 'behave yourself, Miss Lewis' after her destroyer of worlds comment, soften into something a touch less Super Nanny with his first sip. Thor's mocha disappears in impressive time, and he takes the opportunity to give Darcy her hug. Sweet Jesus, the man could be the God of chiropractics; every one of her vertebrae crack under his affection. 

Loki's hot chocolate is still sitting on the desk when Darcy is released, and she glares at him. His brow quirks slightly higher in contempt. She picks it up and stomps over to him, takes the lid off, takes a swing and then pushes it against his chest. "Dude, I'm not trying to poison you. See? Delicious. Take it before I regret my civility." 

If he's surprised, she's gone too quickly to notice. Plomp, into her favourite swivel chair. On goes the computer, and she busies herself with her morning set up just to show them that, fine, if no one wants to explain the two freaking dieties breakfasting in her office, she's just going to get on with her work like normal. Maybe, fingers crossed, they won't kick her out. 

"Miss Lewis?"  
Damnit, Coulson.  
"Yes, Agent Coulson?" she asks, eyes fixed on the start up screen.  
"Would you mind waiting in Jane's office? We have a few things to discuss here of a fairly confidential nature."  
'She sniffs slightly and spins back around, puppy dog eyes fixed right on Jane.  
"Ah, Agent Coulson? Darcy is my primary assistant, this will probably involve her to some capacity. It makes sense for her to be filled in, at least to some extent."  
Darcy grins, all Chershire cat. Go, Jane, go. 

Coulson looks between the two of them. Darcy bats her eyelids. Jane is doe eyed and sincere. Loki steps forward. 

"I agree with Miss Foster."  
What?  
"As Miss Lewis-"  
"Darcy."  
He sighs.  
"As Miss Lewis has already stumbled upon my presence here, it would surely serve our purpose to involve her in the matter. Certainly, it would provide Miss Foster with invaluable support and companionship in Eric's absence. If I remember correctly, the two have been friends for some time."  
Thor beams, "Well said, brother-" there's a small flicker of discomfort across Loki's features, "- and so it is settled! Darcy shall join us on our quest!"

Distracted by Loki's stoic counterance, Darcy blinks at Thor. "Quest?" 

Coulson, Eric and Jane are talking quietly amongst themselves. They seem to reach some kind of agreement. Coulson steps forward. Darcy peers up at him from behind her glasses, trying to mimic his blank expression. His eyes start to sparkle right before he lets himself smile, and she knows she's won. Her face lights up and she launches herself at him, bowling him over in a celebratory hug. 

"Thank you, daddy Coulson! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" 

Ok, so, not the most professional response, but the look on his face is priceless. Ignoring the laughs from the rest of the room, she releases Coulson and skids back to her desk. With a few deep breaths and a roll of the shoulders, she sits herself up, prim and proper, and reaches for a notepad. "Ok, boys, lay it on me." 

Coulson looks to Thor and gives a slight nod, stepping back to his half-eaten scone. Thor steps forward in his place, adjusting his manly bracelets. Darcy blinks. Are they bracelets? Arm guards? Armaguard? Ermehgerd? She fights a smile. 

"Lady Darcy, may I formally introduce you to my brother, Prince Loki of Asgard."  
Loki bows his head slightly in her direction, his attention seemingly focussed on swirling and sniffing the hot chocolate.  
Darcy blinks.  
"Loki and I have returned from Asgard on orders from our father, Odin Allfather. The purpose of our visit is to repair the damage left in the wake of Loki's interference in your world-"  
Darcy scoffs. Loki turns to her with another raise of his brow. Thor continues on, his smile slipping slightly.  
"- which resulted in damages to your infastructure, as well as damage to the relationship between the Aesir and your people. In short, he will consult with Lady Jane with a view to furthuring her understanding of interRealm travel, as well as aid the reconstruction crews as they repair your fine city. These are the last in a series of tasks he must perform to seek penance from the Allfather. Loki has complied with each of the tasks set before him thus far, but my presence here will serve as protection should he-"  
"Try and end us all?"  
"Darcy!" Jane looks highly uncomfortable. 

True, Thor's baby brother looks the picture of compliance. He stands meekly in Thor's shadow, eyes downcast. 

"No, Miss Foster, it is quite alright. Miss Lewis-"  
"Darcy."  
He ignores her in favour of meeting Jane's eye.  
"- has every reason to doubt my sincerity, given my past behaviour. Indeed, I am known to your people as the God of Lies and Mischief. For this reason, and for your security, the Allfather has taken precautions to ensure my, shall we say, good behaviour." 

Coulson perks up a little and shares a glance with Eric. Interesting, Darcy thinks. This must be new information. 

Thor steps towards his brother and lays a hand on his shoulder. 

"My friends, as you may know, Loki is my adoptive brother, raised from infancy in the halls of Asgard. By birth, he is a Frost Giant, a Jotun, a race that our people have fought and feared for centuries. As our father has explained it, the truth of his ancestry was able to be hidden for so long as a result of the instinctual magic Loki performed on first contact with the Aesir. He took the colouring and form of our people until exposure to the flesh of his blood race temporarily reverted him to his Jotun form. It is very distinctive. 

“In order for Loki to transport us to Midgard, and to allow him to be of assistance in the reconstruction of your city, the Allfather has granted him the continued use of his magic, with one condition. I have, hidden on my person, an amulet. If Loki distances himself from me, the amulet activates and strips him of his magic- a process that would cause him great discomfort and that would reveal his Jotun form. If I feel that Loki is putting any human at risk, I may activate the amulet myself." 

Coulson interrupts, "May we see this amulet?" 

Thor smiles ruefully, "I'm afraid not, Son of Coul. It must remain hidden at all times. Only myself and the Allfather know of its true form." 

"May we see a demonstration?" 

The brothers seem to be expecting this, and with a quick nod from Loki, Thor closes his eyes. 

The change starts slowly, spreading up from his finger tips. Darcy hears a gasp from Jane, but she's too busy tracing the blue as it disappears beneath his sleeves and reappears at his neck. His muscles clench at the forced change, and his face creases into one of discomfort. His eyes close briefly, and when they open, they're blood red and clouded in pain. As the blue reaches his hair line, he lets out a gasp and crunches inwards, falling forwards slightly. Thor's eyes burst open in response, and just like that the blue melts away. 

It takes Loki a moment to compose himself so Darcy uses the opportunity to sneak a perve. Evil Lord and debatable Deity of Chaos he may be, but men aren't built that way on Earth. He's paler now than he was before but it doesn't detract from his beauty. She can hear Thor and Coulson discussing the amulet, can hear Coulson use his special negotiator voice, but it's comparatively low on her list of priorities. Those cheekbones. What kind of twisted genes does this man have that give him bone structure like that? How is that even fair? Here he is, the personification of evil with cheekbones beyond the scope of photoshop, and oh God, now he's smiling. 

Wait. He's smiling. And he's looking at her. Busted. She stares back, face purposefully blank. Then, in a moment of calculated insanity, she deliberately lets her eyes trail down, down, down, then up, up up his body, back to his face. There's the tiniest hint of an approving twinkle in his eye, just for a moment, before his attention shifts to the discussion in the middle of the room. 

It takes Coulson, Jane, and Eric another two hours to finish their interview. The brothers are asked to remain on site for the remainder of the day while Director Fury is summoned and briefed. The man is the thing of legends amongst the agents, and he will have the final say. 

Jane is clearly in favour of the proposed arrangement. Loverboy, finally back from over the rainbow? The mind of a God-standard genius at her disposal? Sure, said genius has previously tried to kill her lover and the rest of the humanity, but Jane is forgiving, especially when you apologise with the gift of knowledge. 

Eric is far more hesitant. When he thinks no one is looking, his eyes flicker between Loki and the closest exit. He's scared, he's angry, and he's yet to forgive the invasion and manipulation of his mind. 

Coulson is as unreadable as ever, but Darcy can't see why S.H.I.E.L.D would turn down such an amazing opportunity. Sure, they're potentially putting the entire world at risk just by associating with this psychopath, but they're magical aliens. Who says no to magical aliens? 

Coulson gone, Jane and Thor make a hasty retreat to Jane's office to catch up. Eric gathers his notes and shuffles off to the cafeteria, rightly putting a few walls between himself and the amorous couple. That leaves Darcy and Loki, neither of whom have shifted from their respective positions on opposite sides of the room. He's been staring off into space for the last thirty six minutes, so Darcy idly adds a few notes to her Stage One diary. Now it’s been thirty eight minutes. Is he a machine, she muses, or is this normal for his species. Curiosity gets the better of her, so she slides her chair across the room with all the grace of a young giraffe, gliding to a halt a metre in front of him. Nice and safe, a whole metre between us, she justifies. Besides, this is research. He'll be needing his own profile in her notebook. 

He's still staring into space. Forty one minutes. 

Inching closer, Darcy palms the taser in her pocket for reassurance and inches out her leg. Gentle, gentle, don't startle the scary man, poke! She whips her foot back beneath her chair and watches carefully for a reaction. Nothing. She sighs. She can't inch any further forward without putting herself in a compromising position; he's standing and she's sitting at roughly waist height. Her eyes land on the desk beside him. A ruler. Perfect for long distance poking. She sniggers a little at her mother’s voice in her mind, telling her not to poke at wild animals. 

It's the snigger that brings him back to the present. Her hand has extended towards the desk and he snatches it out of the air, spinning her around and pinning her, the back of the chair pressed against the front of him and his hands on her shoulders. 

"Miss Lewis-"  
"Darcy." She's getting sick of correcting him. Also, she’s kind of terrified.  
He leans down and whispers "Darcy" softly into her ear. Her name has never sounded so sensual and, well, sarcastic.  
He straightens back up again and asks in a normal tone, "Just what do you think you are doing?"  
"I want to know how you take your coffee."  
There's no reply. The hands on her shoulders are suddenly gone as he reappears in front of her. She shrieks and whips out her taser, pointing it at his chest threateningly. "What the HELL, man? Since when can you apparate?" 

He doesn't seem surprised at her alarm, doesn't even seem to notice it. Instead, he's coolly appraising her.  
"Coffee?"  
"Yes. You know, cappuccino, short black, caramel latte..."  
"I have never had a coffee. Only this hot chocolate drink you provided me with." With that, the empty cup appears in his hand and he sniffs it. Her eyebrows, already raised, are in danger of breaching her hairline.  
"I like it. We do not use refined sugar quite so sparingly in Asgard. This is quite the novelty. May I have another?" 

Oh, my God. Loki, would-be conquerer of Earth, has never had coffee. Darcy's mind slows down in horror, and then speeds up with the beginnings of a plan to rectify the situation. Nevermind that he might kill her, in fact, no wonder he tried to kill her! Her purpose in life now clear, she bolts up and swaps her taser for her mobile phone, sending Jane a quick text. 

"Ok, Harry Potter, how far away from Thor can you get before you turn into Pappa Smurf?"  
"Papa who? I assume you are referring to my Jotun form. Some distance, perhaps three or four of your blocks."  
"Can you take me with you when you, you know, jump around in space?"  
"If I wanted to."  
"Trust me, you'll thank me for this," she mutters, grabbing his hand.  
This is the first time she manages to get a full reaction from him. His face, normally so subtle, is frozen with shock. He stares at their joined hands and then back up at her. His eyes narrow in warning and he starts to pull away, but she tightens her grip.  
"Don't look at me like that, Hocus Pocus. Can you take us to the coffee shop across the street from this building?" 

And just like that, Darcy Lewis takes Loki, Prince of Asgard, out for coffee. Well, coffees. She splurges her weekend drinking allowance on a small serve of all the most popular flavours, with a little set aside to spend in the tea isle of local supermarket- who knows, Loki could me more of a tea kind of guy. Tackling it like the wine tastings on day time television, she lines them up in order of sweetness and milkyness. 

Loki sits there looking highly put upon and eyes the drinks, sniffing the air cautiously. 

Yes, Darcy thinks, this can only end well.


	2. Up, Up and Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set post-Avengers (2012)
> 
> Darcy sets about making herself indispensable to S.H.I.E.L.D. A month later she stumbles upon an early morning meeting between Jane, Eric, Coulson, and Asgard's sexiest brothers. It looks like her early morning coffee runs are starting to pay off.
> 
> Eventual Darcy/Loki/M rating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!
> 
> Firstly, I need to say a huge thank you to every single person who has bookmarked, commented on, kudosed or even just read my fic. It's truly such a wonderful feeling and I cannot thank you enough.
> 
> I wasn't going to update again so soon but all the attention went straight to my head, so here you go. Another chapter. Please let me know if you prefer shorter, frequent chapters or something a bit more substantial; at the moment I'm just experimenting and making it up as I go along.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

“Ok, you’re starting to freak me out here.”

They’ve been in the coffee shop for fifteen minutes now and he hasn’t said a single thing since his first sip of sweet, sweet java. All the actual coffee is long gone and he’s sitting ramrod straight, staring intensely into the last empty cup. He looks like the bewildered God of Hipsters.

“Seriously, dude. I get that you’re going for the tall, dark and mute look, totes respect that, but I don’t know how long we’ve got til Jane and Thor reach a spectacular finale and think to check her phone.”

It’s a wonder that S.H.I.E.L.D. hasn’t busted in the door already; surely someone was monitoring the lab, she muses. Still, this isn’t the first time she’s acted without thinking beyond the immediate. If she can just get them back to the lab, safe and sound and without any civilian casualties, she can probably pass it off as a successful trust exercise.

Of course, this is entirely dependent on whether or not she’s broken the guy. Do aliens have allergies? Is he breathing?

“Please tell me coffee isn’t your kryptonite.”

Success! Eye contact! And look at that, just in time for the huge black guy in a trench coat to burst through the doors. Holy shit, is that an eye patch?

Please be a regular patron, please be a regular patron, please-

“Miss Lewis.”

Shit.

“Loki.”

The two of them sit there, one like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar and the other like-

Whoa. Loki is looking up at the scary black guy like he’s just uncovered the secret of the universe. Well, in discovering coffee, she supposes he kind of has.

“Director Fury, before you chastise my companion and I for leaving the building despite strict instructions not to do so, may I recommend joining us and trying a cup of this cinnamon coffee? We have much to discuss and I’m sure we’d all rather it be on amiable terms.”

Aha! Loki is a cinnamon kind of guy. She wonders if that extends to cinnamon scrolls. Not important, her sensible side shouts, did you hear what Loki called that guy? This is Director Fury? Look at him! He is the absolute picture of a self fulfilling prophecy! Has nobody pointed this out to him?

“Your last name is-“

They’re both looking at her now. Loki’s eyes are full of ‘you’ve got to be kidding me.’ Fury seems to have taken the ‘bitch, I double dare you’ approach.

“- not important?”

Ok, not the best thing she could have said, but definitely not the worst. At least they’re both channelling disbelief, you know, as opposed to fury. She tries not to let the giggle out, really she tries, but bam, it’s out there.

“I’m so sorry, Mister Director Fury, but really, Loki and I were bored stupid and I figured, hey, God of Mischief, right? What kind of faculty are we, letting the God of anti-boredom sit around with just an itsy bitsy untrained mortal for company? Honestly, this seemed like the most harmless way to pass the afternoon! And hey, no one died, so really, look how trustworthy we’re being!”

Loki’s lips are twitching. She can’t tell if he’s amused, dismayed, or just shocked.

“I see your point, Miss Lewis, but before you take it upon yourself to announce the identity of your companion to the entire planet, may I recommend standing up nice and quietly and following me? Loki, if you would care to join us..?”

Sarcasm, thou art a furious Director in an eye patch.

They’re marched out of the coffee shop and back to base, side by side like a couple of shackled criminals. Up the elevator they go. Darcy takes a quick peek at Loki in the mirror. The bastard is sipping from a takeout coffee cup. When the hell did he get that? Can he just make things out of thin air? Oh my god, did he steal it? He meets her eye and winks. Yep, definitely stole it. How do you steal a coffee? Who made it for him? At least the coffee has put him in a better mood.

She’s too busy openly staring at Loki to notice that the elevator just keeps on going up, past the levels currently in use by S.H.I.E.L.D. When they do stop, it’s at the roof and there’s a helicopter waiting for them.

“If you wanted to kill me, you’d have just, like, poisoned my coffee or something, right?” she asks Fury.

He sighs. “No, Miss Lewis, I am not in the habit of treating the people I want dead to helicopter rides. Now kindly shut up and move along.”

Fury and Loki start walking toward the helicopter, neither speaking nor looking back to see if she follows. She huffs and fidgets in the doorway. This is not in her pay bracket. Can’t they just slap her on the wrist and let her go? Please? She’s mid internal tirade when she feels a sharp poke to her lower back. With a yelp, she spins around. Nobody’s there. She looks back to the helicopter. Fury and Coulson are exchanging notes- couldn’t Coulson have fetched her? She likes Coulson- and Loki is staring straight back at her. She frowns. He frowns back, and she feels a pinch on her butt cheek. She scurries forward with narrowed eyes. Oh, that rat bastard. Plomp. She sits herself down next to him, arms crossed and pout firmly in place.

The helicopter takes off. Nobody is speaking to her; nobody has interacted with her at all, except to give her those big earmuff thingos and help her strap in. Actually, nobody else is strapped in. She tries not to let that wound her pride.

Heart set on moping, Darcy pays no attention to where they’re going. It is therefore a rather surprised Darcy that steps off the helicopter and onto what looks like a floating naval base. Still feeling vindictive, she sniffs and raises her head high, preparing to stride off. Unfortunately, she very nearly takes with her the pair of ridiculous ear muffs. The helicopter guy tries to hide his amusement as he takes them from her, and she tries to hide her patented death glare in return. 

My precious, precious ego, she thinks, avoiding eye contact and shuffling along behind Coulson.

Worst. Helicopter flight. Ever. 

She's forced to rethink her sour mood only minutes later. 

"Oh my GOD, Coulson! Is this where you go when you're MIA? From now on, take me with you! This place is awesome! Can I have a fancy catsuit? Why aren't you wearing a fancy catsuit? This dress code makes no sense but I love it! Where are Jane and Thor and Eric? Are they here, too? Of course they're here. Oh my god, this place is huge- do you have a Starbucks? Like, a super secret, Agent-only Starbucks? Starbucks is everywhere, man, it's only a matter of time. Holy SHIT!" 

They've been let into a room with a large, oval table. Sitting at that table are Jane, Thor, Eric, a mighty fine red head, a man who appears to be fiddling with a frikkin bow and arrow, a tall, blonde piece of American Pie, and Tony Holy-Shit-I-Must-Be-Dreaming Stark. 

Her hand shoots out and grabs onto Loki's jacket to steady herself. 

"Loki, I swear I will convert to whatever religion you're pushing if you ditch the God of Lies schtick for one second and tell me if I'm dreaming." 

Loki is unimpressed. He gingerly takes her hand from his arms and drops it like a used tissue. "I have no interest in converting you, Miss Lewis, but if you can manage to keep quiet for ten consecutive minutes I will resign my Godhood in shock." 

Darcy ignores him in favour of oogling Tony Stark. She whips out her notepad, takes a step forward, and asks with earnest, "Mr Stark, how do you take your coffee?" 

Jane snorts with repressed laughter. Darcy ignores her, too. 

Stark's face goes from mild surprise to smug in seconds. Standing up, spreading his hands and spinning around in a slow circle, he announces, "Finally!" 

He begins walking towards Darcy, Loki and Coulson where they stand near the doorway. His eyes shoot over to Fury, who has positioned himself at what must be the head of the table.

"Finally, I'm treated with the respect I deserve. Where did this girl come from? Are there more of her? I swear, Coulson, if you're holding out on me, I'll poke you in your belly scar." Before Darcy can put too much thought into ‘belly scar’- someone tried to hurt daddy Coulson? Oh no, not on her watch- Stark comes to a stop in front of her, holding out his hand. "Absolute pleasure to meet you. I take my coffee strong, black-" his gaze shoots back to Fury, "- and before you get too excited, Director, I prefer it sweet. Like, two sugars." 

Darcy's pen gets tucked behind her ear so that she can shake his hand. "You are seriously my favourite Avenger. As of now. I mean, sorry, Thor, but look at this guy! Silver fox of the century, am I right?" 

"Excuse me? Did she just call me a silver fox?"   
"Dude, you're old enough to be my dad. Which would be totally awesome, by the way, if it didn't mean I'd just spent the last five minutes checking out my father." 

"Oh, I like her." It's bows and arrows guy, and his face is lit up like Christmas. 

Tony's face has gone from triumphant to wounded. 

Seeing her mistake, she goes to backpeddle but Loki beats her to it. 

"You know, Stark, she's right. You do look remarkably well for a man of your age and your lifestyle. Should I ever be subject to the human aging process, I can only hope that I'll endure it so well as you." 

Tony growls, "Loki." 

Ergh, she thinks. Boys. 

She puts a hand on each of them and turns to Loki, "Stop being such a butthead. Do you have any idea how many times this man has won Sexiest Bachelor of the Year? Do you? No! So shut it or I'll replace all the cinnamon on this planet with chilli flakes." 

She turns back to Tony. "Stark, he is the God of Lies and you are the God of Sex. You're not old and I'd totally do you, you know, if Pepper Potts weren't such a hottie and I didn't fear her wrath." 

Tony started smiling the moment she said butthead. Wrapping an arm around her and steering her to the table, he calls out to Fury, "This one's a keeper. Watch out, Director, or I'll steal her out from under you." In a faux whisper to Darcy, he adds, "Not literally, of course. You've obviously got excellent taste." 

Holy shit. Tony Stark just pulled out the seat next to his. She’s going to sit next to Tony I-Just-Touched-Your-Shoulders Stark and the God of Mischief is glaring holes into the middle of her favourite jumper.

Best. Helicopter ride. Ever.


	3. First Name Basis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set post-Avengers (2012)
> 
> Darcy sets about making herself indispensable to S.H.I.E.L.D. A month later she stumbles upon an early morning meeting between Jane, Eric, Coulson, and Asgard's sexiest brothers. It looks like her early morning coffee runs are starting to pay off.
> 
> Eventual Darcy/Loki/M rating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so, in my enthusiasm to get to the juicy stuff (it's coming, I swear! Pun intended!), I'm worried that I'm rushing things along. Please let me know if you think that's the case.
> 
> Again, I've got to thank everyone who has given me any kind of feedback on this fic. It's completely blowing my mind and I hope this next chapter lives up to your expectations.
> 
> <3 <3 <3
> 
> B

“Children, if I could have your attention.”

Tony Yeah-That’s-Right-One-Step-Away-From-First-Name-Basis Stark shoots her one last wink before propping his feet up on the table and leaning back.

“’S all yours, Director.”

“As you have no doubt noticed, we have some visitors joining us today. You all remember Thor and his pain in my arse brother, Loki?”

There’s an uncomfortable silence around the table. Darcy is beginning to think uncomfortable silences are his trademark.

“Well, welcome or not, they’re here to pay us a little visit. Against my better judgement, I’ve decided to hear them out. Might even go so far as to give them a trial period. As the Avengers will be responsible for cleaning up whatever mess Asgard is set on creating, I figured I’d cut out the middle man and have you all here from the start. We also have Dr Jane Foster and Dr Eric Selvig, two of S.H.I.E.L.D.s leading astrophysicists, and, by some cruel twist of fate, their assistant, Miss Darcy Lewis. Anyone caught encouraging Miss Lewis to interrupt proceedings will be severely punished. Stark, stop waving your hand around.”

“Where’s Bruce?”

“Over here, Tony!”

Everyone turns to Coulson. He’s standing off to the side, but in his hands he’s holding a small screen. On it, Darcy can just make out the pixelated image of what must be Tony’s Bruce. He’s waving. Tony waves back with childlike enthusiasm.

“Brucey! Great to see you!”

“Dr Banner has taken advantage of what appears to be ridiculously sub par technology in order to avoid any unfortunate situations reoccurring. I would like to stress, however, that Dr Banner and his big green friend would be more than happy to pay us a visit, should the need arise.”

That guy is the Hulk? Him? He looks so... adorably scruffy.

Fury continues, “Earlier this morning, Thor and Loki paid a surprise visit to a S.H.I.E.L.D. research centre to make arrangements with Dr Foster. As it turns out, Loki’s sentence carried with it an interRealm community service program.”

Loki nods politely to acknowledge the inquisitive stares sent his way. He’s gracefully arranged himself against the wall beside Coulson, looking every inch the disinterested, spoiled teen called in to the Principals office.

Thor rises from his position at the table. “It is good to see you again, my friends, and I apologise for any inconvenience our visit may have caused you. As Director Fury has mentioned-“

Darcy promptly tunes out in favour of peering into Tony Stark’s lap. Totally platonic, of course; dude’s fiddling away with a fancy Stark Phone. He catches her watching and brings up an amusing YouTube video. It’s hard to tell without the sound, but it kind of looks like the cameraperson is chasing after Captain America. The focus is centred on his bright blue butt bobbing up and down as he runs. Instead of the typical red line that denotes time, there’s a little yellow Pac Man chasing a little red, white and blue Ghost across the bottom of the screen. 

Something suddenly clicks into place in her mind and she looks up at American Pie. She treats him to her absolute widest grin.

He looks confused, she thinks. Best clear things up.

“You have a nice butt,” she slowly mouths, sending him a little thumbs up of encouragement. His eyes widen comically in response and his cheeks flush red.

Tony beams at her in pride. She wonders if it’s too soon to scrawl ‘Darcy + Tony = BFF’ all over her notebooks. 

One menacing glare from Fury and three tedious hours later, Darcy is woken from her doze by the sound of her own name. Blinking back her confusion, she straightens up and very articulately asks the room at large, “Bwah?”

Jane, used to Darcy’s inconsistent attention span, quickly summarises the discussion.

“We’re discussing living arrangements. Directory Fury has suggested that they take rooms in the Avengers Tower, but as Loki will be working downtown with Eric and I, it makes more sense for them to rent rooms nearer the lab. There’s an apartment up for rent in our building, actually. Thor-“

“Ugh, please tell me that their apartment will be at the very least two floors above or below mine. I do not need to hear the results of over a year of pent up sexual frustration.”

Jane is bright red and glaring. Whoopsie.

“Uh, I mean-“

“We all know what you meant, Miss Lewis,” states Director Exasperated.

“And we totally agree, right? I’d hate to be living within earshot of Thor when he unleashes his mighty hammer-“

“Man of Iron, we have fought in battle together on many an occasion, I do not understand your reluctance-“

“Ignore him, Thor, he’s just being a dickhead. I, on the other hand, think you wield your weapon of choice with-“

Ok, who is this Robin Hood guy? Is she missing something? She’s definitely missing something.

“Everybody, shut the hell up.”

There’s a sulky chorus of “Yes, Director.” Jane’s blush has yet to fade. Big whoopsie.

“Agent Coulson, kindly make arrangements for the odd couple to move into Dr Foster’s apartment building. Miss Lewis, shut your mouth. Agent Romanov, Agent Barton, Captain, stay here. Stark, get the hell out of here. You’re meant to be on press duty this evening and you look like shit. With all due respect, Thor, we’ll be wanting to make some arrangements of our own, just in case. Miss Lewis, I just told you to shut your mouth. Do not make me tell you again. We all clear? No questions? Good. Out.”

It later turns out that the rental apartment won’t be available until the weekend, so Thor and Jane go to “set up the spare room” at Jane’s place, leaving Coulson and Loki hovering in Darcy’s apartment. In some kind of bizarre defiance of the laws of physiology, the more Coulson narrows his eyes, the more he seems to see. He’s standing by the door, searching her apartment for God knows what. Finally, his eyes come to a rest on Darcy, and he makes his leave. The five of them had ordered pizza for dinner on the way back from the freaky giant naval base, so she trades him the leftovers for a hug.

“You know how to reach me, Miss Lewis.”

“Stop worrying, it’ll give you wrinkles. Me and my new buddy over here will be just fine.”

“You don’t need help with the dishes?”

“Get out, Coulson.”

“Goodnight, Darcy. We'll be keeping an eye on things. Loki? The Hulk hasn't forgotten. Neither should you.”

Yes, she thinks, daddy Coulson is my favourite Agent.

As the door to her apartment swings shut, Loki turns to stare at her. His gaze is steadfast and unsettling; it’s making her fidget.

“Buddy?”

“What? It means-“

“You consider us friends, Miss Lewis?”

“Ah, I mean, I don’t really know you that well, but I figured with all the time we’ll be spending together, you know, avoiding the love bird mating ritual, we may as well try to get along. Plus, I kinda rocked your world earlier with the coffee thing.”

A slow smile spreads across his face, stopping just before it reaches his eyes.

“Interesting. You’re quite right, we will be spending an inordinate amount of time together. How would you feel about a somewhat more... intimate arrangement?”

Oh no, he didn’t.

“Excuse me? Did you not just hear me say ‘I don’t really know you’? You can NOT-“

“Calm yourself, Miss Lewis, you’ve misunderstood me. I have no more interest in bedding you than you, I’m sure, have in bedding me.”

Oh, sure, now his eyes are twinkling.

“I’m just suggesting a little mischief.”

Darcy’s eyes are wide, her pulse is making itself known, and she’s absolutely, positively sure it’s purely based on her animalistic urge to run the fuck away from crazy megalomaniacs with scary green eyes. Definitely.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. are not convinced that I have been entirely honest regarding my motivations for visiting your planet. They’re quite right to have reservations.”

He’s strolling towards her now, his stride casual but his eyes unrelenting. He pauses in front of her and leans in, bracing his arms on the counter behind her. She stands her ground, hand inching towards her pocket and the taser hidden within.

“Shall I be entirely honest with you, Miss Lewis? I have been alternately imprisoned and bound to Thor since my capture on this noisy, polluted, overrun planet. My brother, in his infinite wisdom, has refused to leave my side in a misguided attempt to repair what has been broken between us. He has had time enough.”

He’s so close that she completely forgets to correct his use of ‘Miss Lewis’.

“I am a creature that appreciates solitude, Miss Lewis. I long for the return of my freedom. I have libraries, you know. Great rooms of knowledge.”

His voice drops to a whisper, “They fear that I will rain fire upon them when I am freed, and yet, for all the malice in me, I would rather an evening alone with my books.”

That’s it, her ovaries scream, we’re out! Darcy only knows one way to deal with this. Sass, she thinks. Sass him good.

So she mock whispers back, “What does that have to do with me?”

Ah, well, her ovaries sigh. You gave it your best.

Loki smiles and stands back, finally giving her some breathing space. Walking over to her couch, he sits himself down and pats the cushion by his side. Hopefully looking more sure of herself than she feels, Darcy shuffles over and flops down beside him. Thinking that she can do better, she swings her feet up to rest them on his lap. Hah, take that. Mr Holier Than Thou looks slowly down at her feet and then back up at her face. His lips are just a tiny bit too thin and Darcy is in internal triumph.

“What I want from you, Miss-“

“Darcy, Jesus, my name is Darcy.”

“What I want from you, Darcy, is the pretence that I am in a meaningful romantic relationship with a human.”

Uh, what?

“What?”

“I want S.H.I.E.L.D. to believe us to be as Thor and Jane are.”

She’s spluttering and she doesn’t even care.

“Uh, why?!”

“Because, my sweet Darcy-“

Curse those twinkling eyes!

“If I am consumed with desire for one of my, ah, colleagues, surely I do not have the time nor the incentive to hatch new plots that may or may not involve the destruction of your planet.”

“Wait, but you said you didn’t want to have sex with me!”

“We don’t have to have sex to portray that image.”

“You’re asking a lot, Mr Professional Liar. Oh yes, I’ve read the books, I want to know what I get in return for going along with one of your crazy schemes which, by the way, could totally get me fired.”

“But surely, a friend may do a favour for another friend without the expectation of a favour done in return?”

“Yeah, I don’t think so. You owe me one. I want it in writing. I want you to swear it by whatever you believe in. Say ‘I, Loki, hereby owe Darcy a monumental favour of her choosing.’”

“Are you agreeing?”

“I might. There are some details we’d need to discuss.”

“Such as?”

“Ah, such as, how do we convince them that we’re doing the dance with no pants? S.H.I.E.L.D. can be really sneaky, what with them being professional spies.”

Because that’s what this conversation needs, her mind scoffs. More sarcasm.

“I am perhaps the most proficient magic-wielder in these nine Realms. It will not be a difficult task.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“Firstly, I will selectively filter and elaborate on all sounds heard by the twelve S.H.I.E.L.D. listening devices scattered within this apartment.”

“My apartment is bugged.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement, because Darcy isn’t really all that surprised. Kind of horrified, but not surprised.

“Yes. I’m sure if you’d stopped to think of it, you would’ve realised it before now.”

“So they’re hearing what we’re saying right now?”

He scoffs. “Since our arrival, all they have heard is a declaration of our mutual lust and an agreement to begin a relationship in secret, at least until you can summon up the courage to tell Jane that you’re bedding her boyfriend’s younger, slightly deranged but infinitely more attractive brother.”

She knows she’s gaping at him but he doesn’t seem to care. He’s practically preening at her, all proud and handsome and convinced of his own brilliance. So, she slaps him.

Well, she tries to. His hand catches hers an inch from his cheek, and without blinking he spins her around and pins her to the couch.

“Explain yourself. Now.”

“What the hell, man?! You didn’t even ask, you just assumed I’d agree to your stupid plan! That’s a dick move and you know it!”

“You would rather they hear the truth?”

“You could’ve made them hear anything, Loki. We could just as easily have been awkwardly discussing the weather.”

He shifts his weight so that he’s straddling her, and with a quick movement he’s flipped her onto her back and pinned her arms above her head.

She glares up at him. “You know, all this physical manipulation is making me dizzy.”

His gaze flicks to the door and back to her.

“Have we reached an agreement?”

“Let me up and I’ll think about it.”

“There are three Agents outside your door. They heard the bugs. They’re investigating. Decide now, Darcy Lewis.”

“Ok, ok, fine, lemme- UMPH!”

The moment he has her consent, Loki dives forward and presses his lips to hers, their bodies pressed flush together from hips to noses. She blinks up at him, owlish in her confusion, but her eyes shut on their own accord the moment he starts to move. Hands travelling to his hair, her last coherent thoughts are a jumble of ‘silky bastard’ and ‘stupid Silvertongue’ before her blood rushes southward with entirely unladylike enthusiasm.

She’s just grown bold enough to start nipping at his lower lip when he draws back, smirk firmly in place. “They’ve gone.”

He’s standing up and walking away. Uh, why?

“Wait, what?”

“They slid a small camera between the carpet and the door to confirm their suspicions. The results seem to have satisfied their curiosity, because they’ve each departed.”

“Wait. Hold on. If you’re so all powerful, can’t you just make the cameras show them what you want them to see? Like what you did with the listening bugs?”

His grin grows wider, the first real Loki smile he’s shared with her, and it’s pure mischief.

“I thought this might be the kind of arrangement best sealed with a kiss.”

With that, the traitorous bastard is gone, not even a puff of green smoke left in his wake.


	4. Introducing Natasha Romanov

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set post-Avengers (2012)
> 
> Darcy sets about making herself indispensable to S.H.I.E.L.D. A month later she stumbles upon an early morning meeting between Jane, Eric, Coulson, and Asgard's sexiest brothers. It looks like her early morning coffee runs are starting to pay off.
> 
> Eventual Darcy/Loki/M rating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my precious!
> 
> Just a nice, light update for your Saturday ^.^
> 
> I figure, Darcy and Jane were never really up to speed with the Avengers Initiative; their exposure has mostly been to Thor, so apart from the New Mexico incident most of what they'd know would be general knowledge from the media.
> 
> Hence, they'd know the main figureheads from the Team (ie the Hulk, Iron Man and Captain America), but they'd know far less about Clint and Natasha. Plus, knowing S.H.I.E.L.D., the full extend of Loki's misbehaviour on Earth would be covered up.
> 
> These initial chapters are mostly about Darcy's introduction to the Team and her attempts to find out more about our favourite Trickster. If it isn't obvious to you yet... this is going to be a fairly long story.
> 
> I hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading and an extra special thank you to everyone who has left me feedback, whatever the form!
> 
> xxx
> 
> B

The next morning, Darcy wakes up sprawled across her kitchen table, covered in sticky chocolate icecream. It appears as though she's knocked over the half finished carton of triple chocolate fudge in her sleep and then proceeded to flail her upper body around on the resulting mess in an unconscious hunt for a more comfortable sleeping position. It also appears that her attempts were in vain; the muscles of her neck spasm with her first attempt at movement. On the plus side, she didn't take off her glasses, so, if you ignore the flecks of chocolate, her vision is good to go. Ah, small victories.

Darcy pushes herself up and stretches, resolving to hunt down Thor after a thorough shower. Then, she remembers. Thunk. Ow, her head, she internally grumbles. Her conscious must be feeling argumentative this morning, because she's thinking that she deserves the headache. No, actually, Fury deserves the headache. He's the one letting the God of Mischief loose in the world- in Darcy's apartment building, no less- and without even the foresight to, I don't know, offer a few tips on how not to be manipulated into slavery.

Stupid, stupid Fury.

She's busy compiling a list of derogatory names for the man when she finally notices Grey Beard, alive and well and in her house, licking up melted ice cream.

Wait, aren't cats allergic to chocolate? Or is that dogs?

Wait, more importantly, if Fury is the boss of a giant Naval base... and Fury has an eye patch... Does that make Fury the ultimate Pirate? Captain Fury? Captain One-Eyed Fury of the Seven Seas? She's sniggering at Grey Beard, who has finished one puddle and progressed to the table, where he's licking straight from the carton.

If he were allergic to chocolate, he'd know, right? So he wouldn't deliberately eat it, surely? She's sure that there's a common house hold pet out there that isn't allowed chocolate... But which? Should she do something to stop the cat? Or would he be dead by now? Ergh, it is at least five hours too early to make these kinds of life and death decisions. Deciding to play it safe, she picks up the cat and puts him out on the fire escape with a bowl of water, "for your chocolate hangover."

Wandering back to the table, sponge and disinfectant in hand, she's ready to get her clean on when she notices a little note card sitting in the chocolatey imprint of her cheek. That definitely hadn't been there before. Not bothering to look around, she replaces her sponge with a pair of tongs and holds the writing up to the light, careful not to get too close. Ain't no way she's getting cursed from a flimsy piece of stationary, no siree.

The writing is just this side of ornate, all sleek and cursive and fancy but still legible. Somebody has obviously been practicing for their pen lisence. It reads, 

'Do not forget our bargain, Darcy Lewis.'

The letters disappear as she reads them, but before she can investigate further new ones have appeared.

'Beware the red head. She will see the truth in you before you see it yourself."

Red head? Uh, there's more than one flaming red head in the world, Loki, you're going to have to be more specific.

The note is blank again so she shrugs and pops it on her fridge, under a magnet that reads 'I'm with stupid'. Picking up the sponge again, she heads back to the table only to be disrupted again, this time by the door bell.

Freezing very still, she closes her eyes shut and wills herself back to childhood. If I can't see them, they can't see me.

Wait, theres a wall between them, of course they can't see her. Success!

"I know you're in there, Darcy."

Crap. Wait, maybe crap? The voice is unfamiliar and feminine with just enough exasperation to counter balance the undercurrent of humour. Stomping over in disgruntled curiousity, Darcy swings open the door and blinks. Oh. That red head.

It's the girl from the pirate ship and she looks even better close up.

Her eyes are up there, Darcy reminds herself. Straight she may be but a robot she is not.

"Hello, my name is Natasha Romanov. We weren't formally introduced, but I noticed you yesterday at the meeting. I thought I'd stop by and say hi."

"Uh, why?"

Natasha looks down, suddenly shy. "Well, for one thing, did you see the boy:girl ratio in that room?"

"Oh. Ah, come in, I guess. I was just going to have a shower..."

Natasha's eyes finally skim over Darcy's appearance, her gaze increasingly curious. "Of course. I have a few calls to make, anyway, so after your shower we could walk in together?"

Darcy squints at Natasha. The girl looks harmless enough, but there's something in her eyes, something borderline 'I will fuck your shit up'.

Natasha peers back, a stupidly perfect eyebrow raising. "Darcy?"

"Huh? Yeah. Right. Absolutely. Um, beware the kitchen, it's, well, just beware. Come on."

Leading the way into the apartment, Darcy's eyes catch Grey Beard pawing at her window. 

"Hey, Romanov, what happens if cats eat chocolate?"

The other woman pauses by the couch, "I'm not sure, to be honest, but I could google it while you're in the bathroom?"

"Hey, yeah, that's a great idea. Ok, so, um, make yourself at home, I guess. I'll be quick. Actually, hey, I don't mean to sound weird, but do you have, like, an ID or something?"

Natasha looks up from where she'd been fiddling with her phone, surprise in her features. She smiles, "Shouldn't you have asked that before you invited me into your apartment?"

"Well, probably. I mean, I recognise you, but I don't think that'd be enough to stop Coulson from grounding me into next year if he found out."

"I won't tell if you don't," Natasha grins, pulling a card out of seemingly nowhere. Darcy checks it just like she's been taught. 

"You and Agent Coulson are close?"

Now Darcy is surprised. Again. This is a ridiculous week, even by her own skewed standards.

"Well, we're hardly sleepover buddies or anything, but sure, I guess. I mean, he doesn't tell me anything above my clearance level, obviously, but he's still awesome fun."

"Has he shown you his Captain America cards?"

"Dude, like, a thousand times. I've been trying to find replacements for the ones that got stolen for his birthday but it's really difficult now that the Avengers are all famous and collectable."

"Stolen?"

"Yeah, seriously, do not ask him about it. He goes into a full sulk for hours."

Natasha's still smiling but the quality of it is different, just slightly. It's unnerving.

"So, ah, I'mma go have that shower," Darcy says, handing back the ID and backing away.

There is an Agent on her couch, Darcy's mind chants as she slips into the bathroom.

There is an AGENT on her COUCH, it insists as she adjusts the temperature of the shower.

There is an AGENT from the super secret, Avengers only meeting on her COUCH, and here she is, standing around naked in the shower. It sounds like the plot to a bad S.H.I.E.L.D. porno. Although, Darcy's ever-so-helpful mind whispers, conjuring images of Loki's triumphant smirk, it might just be that her couch has awesome pulling powers. Pushing the urge to kick her shower screen from her mind, Darcy instead spends her shower thinking up new and creative ways to torture her least favourite diety into submission. She fondly eyes her taser, sitting there all proud and full of potential. Then, she hums to herself a revised version of Milkshake; "Mah upholstry brings all mah peeps to the yard, and I'm like, it's bettah dan yours, damn right! It's bettah dan yours!" 

She's just started to get into it, shimmying her booty like the gypsy princess she knows herself to be, when she catches movement out the corner of her eye. Spinning around, she drops her loofah microphone and gapes.

Loki, dressed to impress in his fancy Asgardian leathers, is casually reclining on her toilet seat and studying her precious taser.

Do not scream, do not scream, do not- ah, hell with it, it's hard enough dealing with his bullshit with her clothes on.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGH!"

Aha, victory. He jumps up, eyes wide, then glares at her. He's gone in a blink, and she's about to relax again when the door smashes open to reveal the barrels of two impressive looking guns and a bizarely unflustered Natasha.

Well, shit, does everyone have to see her naked today? This is so not cool.

Resigning herself to her own nudity, Darcy turns off the shower and pulls on a towel in her own sweet time.

Natasha doesn't relax her stance. Darcy sighs, "Listen, I appreciate the offer, but I think the itsy bitsy spider learnt its lesson when I flushed it down the drain. No need to mess up the tiling or, you know, shoot me over a false alarm."

Raising a brow, Natasha slowly straightens. "You screamed like a banshee over a spider?"

"Uh, yeah, duh. Have you ever watched the Discovery Channel? Last thing I want is to wake up dead in my own bathroom with black widow bites all over my naked arse."

Ok, so now the red head is laughing. Awesome.


	5. Chocolate Croissants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set post-Avengers (2012)
> 
> Darcy sets about making herself indispensable to S.H.I.E.L.D. A month later she stumbles upon an early morning meeting between Jane, Eric, Coulson, and Asgard's sexiest brothers. It looks like her early morning coffee runs are starting to pay off.
> 
> Eventual Darcy/Loki/M rating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello hello!
> 
> Another chapter ^.^ Let me know what you think or if you have any suggestions! I'm thinking about writing a little side fic for anyone who is impatient for the M rating to kick in. Let me know if that's something you'd appreciate.
> 
> Thank you thank you thank you to everyone who has left feedback for me, I don't think it will ever grow old.
> 
> xxx
> 
> B

Agent Romanov lets herself out of the bathroom at Darcy's rather pointed request, still chuckling as she goes. This leaves Darcy to shuffle about her morning business, trying to understand when she got so damn funny and wondering if anyone's going to let her in on the joke. 

Is she the joke? 

She flashes herself in the mirror, trying to be clinical in her appraisal of her own body. She isn't exactly ballerina-lithe but she's hardly a beached whale. Even if she does have a few extra lumps and bumps, she thinks, have you seen the rack on this chick? Sticking her nose in the air she marches off to get dressed. 

Flicking around in her phone, she's cheerfully resetting her ringtone to Sir Mixalots 'I Like Big Butts' as she waltzes into the lounge room. The empty lounge room. Damnit, Natasha, I told you to beware the kitchen, she silently panics, jogging over to the open doorway. Peeking in, she's greeted by the wholesome vision that is Agent Natasha Romanov, possessor of two giant hand guns, sipping what smells like chamomile tea at a completely spotless kitchen table. Darcy didn't even realise that she owned chamomile tea. Grey Beard's little face is just visible above the edge of the table from where he's sitting on the Agen't lap, purring like he's won the lottery. 

Natasha looks up and smiles at her sheepishly, "I thought I might give you a hand with the kitchen to make up for startling you in the shower." 

"Uh, wow. How did you- wait, how long was I gone? What time is it?" 

Natasha checks her watch and Darcy checks the microwave clock. 

"Shit, shit, shit, we have to go. Quickly, quickly! Grey Beard, let yourself out, you sneaky mongrel, out!" 

Natasha is frowning at Grey Beard, who has jumped from her lap up to the kitchen counter. Darcy ignores them both and chooses instead to dash about, throwing things into her bag while making a quick phone call. 

"Hello, Brian? Yeah, it's Darcy, I'm running a few minutes late. Could you get started on my Friday usual for me? Check with Sandy, she has a copy of the schedule. I'm thinking chocolate croissants. Thank you, thank you, thank you- this is why I love you. Gotta run, see you soon! Ok, Natty-tat-tasha, lets-a-go!" 

Suddenly the room is chilly. Darcy looks back at Natasha, standing there looking all shocked and annoyed and slightly amused but also slightly hostile. 

"Don't like that one? I figure, hey, girl's seen me naked, that's a bond that can't be broken. Might as well throw in a nickname to make it official." 

The hostility is gone with a blink and she's smiling back all predatory and slightly-too-sweet. "If Tony or Clint ever hear you use that name I will end you. Around everyone else, I am Agent Romanov or, if you absolutely can't restrain yourself, Natasha. Clear?" 

Darcy holds back a gulp, choosing instead to wink and head back to the door. "You got it, Natty Cake! Now move!" 

The walk to work is fun with someone to share it with, and Darcy cheerfully talks Natasha's ear off. The other girl seems curious about her relationship with Jane and Thor, and when Darcy mentions Loki, starts asking about her opinion on his last visit to Earth. 

"Well, you know, I wasn't really here for most of it- Jane and I got whisked away. To be honest, I was hoping to ask Eric but, fair enough, he doesn't like to talk about it. I think he still feels guilty. We tried to tell him; it's not his fault, it's not a matter of strength- when the Gods start a pissing contest and decide to steal your mind for their evil purposes, ain't no fool gonna hold that against you. He isn't accountable for his actions." 

"So who do you think is accountable?" 

"Well, obviously Loki, to an extent. Don't look at me that way, I know his actions are his own and he's hardly been apologetic. And yeah, I know a lot of people died. Jane and I had a big talk about this kind of thing, right after Thor left for the first time. See, when Thor first crash landed here he was a complete jerk, all, 'I am the mighty Thor'; you could tell just by listening to him how above the world he thought he was. Those guys, they've lived so differently to us. We're so small to them. I mean, hell, they're immortal, we're gone in a blink of the eye and I think, to them, that can make us seem less meaningful. Like how we see flies. Here today, gone tomorrow. 

"Plus, you know, it was kinda like, ooh, look at Thor's shiny new play things. I'mma fuck his shit up. We're like Barbie dolls to those guys. Loki's just the overlooked little brother pulling the doll heads from Thor's toys when Thor does something to piss him off." 

"And you don't have a problem with that? One of those dolls could easily have been you." 

"Of course I have a problem with it. It's just, I remember what a moody shit I was when I was a teenager. He reeks of hormonal tantrum, right? I don't think he'll ever be a shining model of heroism like his brother-" They've arrived at the lobby now, each carrying a small stack of coffees and chocolatey pastry as Darcy nudges the door open with her butt. 

"- but I don't think that necessarily means he has to be the baddie. God, imagine two Thors running around." 

She pauses to give the two night duty agents their coffee. Both men are making a show of standing up straight, their eyes forward, thanking her with a formal, "thank you, Miss Lewis" rather than their usual, 'cheers Darcy'. Must be the super hottie, she figures, rolling her eyes as she continues on to the lift. Natasha seems to be off in her own little world, so Darcy's mind wanders to her missing Taser. Loki must have taken it with him when she frightened him off; she's got to figure out how to get it back without accidentally giving up her special favour. Something in her gut tells her she'll be needing it for something big. Snickering to herself at the innuendo, she leads Natasha into the lab. 

Tony What-The-Hell-Are-You-Doing-Here-Jeez-That's-A-Nice-Suit Stark is sitting on a swively chair in the middle of the room, spinning around in lazy circles and blaring Iron Maiden from the speakers. 

"Ah, Tony? Mind turning that down, buddy?" 

He spins around to face her, beaming. His face quickly falls as he takes in her companion. 

"Mute. Hey, Darcy." 

He's strolling over now, his eyes fixed on Natasha's face. Natasha, for her part, is staring straight back, face neutral but eyes sharp. 

"And Agent Romanov, fancy seeing you here." 

"Good morning, Mr Stark." 

About a minute ticks by with the two of them eye-locked, seemingly having a secret conversation through facial expression alone. Darcy is unimpressed. 

"Well, this is great and awkward and all, but I'm going to leave you two to it and just-" 

"No, Darcy, it's okay. I've got some business to see to elsewhere in the building. I'll come check on you later." Natasha's tone is friendly but her eyes are still fixed on Tony. Damn, that girl be scary. 

"Sure, ah, bye." 

And just like that, she's alone with Tony. Darcy lets out a gush of air and quirks a brow. 

"What the hell was that about, man?" 

Tony is still staring at the spot where Natasha's face had been, his forehead creased. 

"So, what did you do to get the babysitter treatment from the Black Widow?" 

"The black- oh my god, that's why she wouldn't stop laughing. I do not want to think about how she earned that code name. Total buzz kill. And honestly, Tony? I have no idea. I'm just the assistant. Speaking of which, Agent West can actually live without his coffee today if you're interested. You snooze, you lose and all that. Not even sure if he's in. He takes it the same as you." 

Tony accepts the coffee, watching Darcy as she potters about, turning on computers and laying out the coffees and pastries. 

"Just the assistant, eh?" 

"Mmhmm." 

"Well, you've done something to get on their radar. I'll probably wake up with a knife in my trachea for saying it, but you seem like a nice kid and that woman got information out of the so-called God of Lies without laying a finger on him. Just, you know, be careful." 

Their eyes meet across the room and Darcy frowns. Nothing in the tabloids ever hinted at there being a serious side to Tony Stark, but there it is. 

"Thanks, man. Hey, how did you do that thing with the music?" 

"Say hi, JARVIS." 

"Good morning, Miss Lewis." 

Okay, so now the walls are talking to her. Awesome. 

"Uh, hello, talking room." 

"Jarvis is my AI. Hooked him up to your computers last night. I was waiting for Dr Foster to talk me up to speed on all this wibbly wobbly spacey wacey stuff but I got impatient." 

"You've been here all night?" 

"Uh, yeah. Your boss turned down a trip to Stark Tower. I wanted to know why." 

"Dude, it's totally not personal. Jane just gets weirdly attached to her equipment." 

Tony Stark is pouting. Urge to Instagram rising. 

"Man of Iron! I am surprised to see you here this early! In the past you have not been an early riser!" 

Ah, here come the cavalry, complete with accidental morning wood jokes. What a day. 

Jane and Loki follow Thor into the room, the former glowing and the latter glowering at his brother's back. 

"Hey, Thunder Down Under, how you doing?" 

Thor goes in for the hug but Tony side steps him with a head shake and a "Not today, if I crack these ribs again Pepper's gonna kill me." 

Oh, that reminds her- "Hey, Thor, can I steal that hug?" 

"Lady Darcy! Good morning!" 

Crack, crack, crackcrackcrackcrackcrack. Oh, sweet relief. 

"Thanks, big guy. Got you some breakfast." 

If memory serves her correctly, Thor will be finished with his five croissants before Jane has finished her first. Darcy planned ahead; she's already stashed a few boxes of Pop Tarts in her desk. 

"So, Dr Foster, pleasure to meet you properly. It's an okay sort of set up you've got here. I understand you made some of this equipment yourself. Not bad. And you there, God of BDSM, get in here." 

Loki had been lurking by the doorway, watching the conversation with poorly disguised boredom. If he understood the BDSM reference he certainly doesn't show it. That boy is way too attached to his leathers. 

"Stark," he drawls, "what an unexpected damper on an otherwise fine morning." 

Darcy snorts. "Boys, play nice, I do not want another visit from Director Furious. That man gives me the ultimate heebie jeebies. Jane, where's Eric? He usually comes in with you. And, hey, while we're on it, where are all the other science folk?" 

Jane and Thor share a look- oh God, they've reached that stage of Coupledom- before Jane turns to Darcy, "Eric and the rest of the team have decided to move to one of the other facilities for the time being. Just until things settle down a bit here. We'll have the lab mostly to ourselves. S.H.I.E.L.D. thought it might be a good idea." 

Oh, well, that makes sense. Darcy looks wistfully at all the scientistless coffees. 

"Well, if you guys need me, I'll be trying to palm off these coffees in the cafeteria." 

"Oh, Darcy, I'm sorry, I didn't even think to text you-" 

"No, no, it's ok," she sniffs, gathering up the cups. 

"I'll come with you." 

"Ah, what? Why?" 

Apparently that's not what Loki wanted to hear, because with a roll of his eyes and a gesture of his hands he freezes the whole damn room. As in, everybody stops moving. As in, Thor is frozen mid bite with his mouth wide open. 

No, Darcy, swapping Thor's croissant for something more phallic is probably not a priority right now. She sighs. This is what her life has become. 

"What the hell, man? Was that really necessary? What did you do to them?" 

"I froze time." 

"You can do that?" 

"Not indefinitely, and not without consequence. I have frozen time within this room, and in order to restore us to the normal time stream without repercussions we will have to jump forward a bit." 

"Jump forward?" 

"Yes. Or I could accelerate time until we've caught up. Either would serve our purpose." 

"Or you could, I don't know, not mess with it at all?" 

"No, Darcy," he sighs, strolling towards her. She takes an involuntary step back, hand reflexively going to her Taser pocket. 

The bastard pulls it out of thin air, twirling it around his fingers. 

"You seem to have forgotten our deal." 

"Dude, you've been here five minutes. Besides, it's meant to be a secret, remember? All fear the wrath of the mighty Thor?" 

"You are not a subtle creature, Darcy, and you've hardly looked at me." 

"Ok, so, firstly, give me back my Taser, you creep. Secondly, you've got no right to get all 'swoon for me, Darcy' after you used my shower as your own personal peep show. So many levels of not ok, dude. Thirdly, I don't care if you're used to maidens falling at your feet, that's not happening with me, and if it did, you'd be straight back to Asgard under suspicion of mind control because that is not something I'd do on my own free will. Oh, and fourthly, why can't you be in charge of acting all doped up on lust? You're the master manipulator, not me." 

"Calm yourself. I have no desire to Taser you. None the less, I see no harm in retaining your precious weapon a while longer. Think of its return as a reward for good behaviour-" 

"Ah, no, see, that doesn't work for me." 

Loki's eyes narrow with warning but she barges on anyway. 

"I am not leaving this building without some form of protection. Nope. You give me back my Taser or arrange an armed escort. Your choice." 

"I see. Interesting. What is it you fear, Darcy Lewis?" 

"Ah, seriously? Well, among other things, rape, murder, assault, theft." 

His eyes turn calculating and he pauses to think on her confession. With the airs of a man who has lost an internal argument, he suggests walking her home each evening. 

"Ugh, no, that is definitely not ok." 

"It is what any caring lover would do if he feared for the safety of his woman." 

"'His woman'? Seriously? I don't know what S.H.I.E.L.D. heard in my apartment last night, but I seriously doubt it had anything to do with me being your 'woman'." 

"You want me to be 'doped up on lust'? This is our compromise." 

"Do you even know what compromise means?" 

"As for the incident in your bathroom this morning-" 

"Don't change the subject!" 

"I was merely curious as to why you had not replied to my note." 

"What? I can do that?" 

"It is simple. The spell is cast upon the parchment. I have its twin. Any words you write upon yours will reappear upon mine. The ink will fade once the other party has read it. I did not realise that nudity is such a sensitive issue in this Realm." 

"Ok, so, you can't just go around assuming that I know these things. Magic is a Loki thing, not a Darcy thing. Same with nudity." 

He appraises her. Standing there, all tall and aloof and within arms reach, she doesn't know whether to kick him and run away or to plant a kiss on his- wait, what? 

"You are a strange woman, Miss Lewis." 

She huffs and crosses her arms, ready to tell him off again when he clicks his fingers. Just like that, he's standing exactly as he was when everything stopped and time is lurching forward. The effect tugs at the contents of her stomach and the blood rushes from her face. 

"Darce? You ok? You look a little green," Jane is asking. Awesome. Darcy goes to reply but promptly shuts her mouth again. Stupid Loki and his stupid magic and his stupid everything. 

"Yes, Darcy, you look terrible. Please, allow me to walk you to the infirmary." 

If he hadn't just insulted her, hell, if he hadn't been the cause of her pallor, she would've sworn he looked genuinely concerned. Coming forward and placing a hand on her back, he starts to lead her towards the door. The rest of the room is silent in shock. 

"No, wait, the coffee!" 

"Darcy..." his stupid voice is all gentle exasperation, but he makes another gesture and the coffee jumps up and starts floating along behind them. "We can drop them off on the way. Now, come." 

"Ah, Darcy? You sure?" 

Tony is her absolute favourite Avenger in the whole world. Best BFF ever. 

"Thanks, Tony, I'll be fine." 

"Sure. Ah, here, take my card. 'S got my personal number on it." 

She reaches out to take the card but Loki gets there first, snatching it up and tucking it away in his jacket. His eyes are pure frost as he stares down the shorter man. 

"Thank you, Stark, she's in very capable hands." 

Another wave of nausea hits. She tugs on Loki's jacket, silently pleading for him to play nice and hurry up. 

His eyes positively melt when he looks at her. She blinks. Ok, this is weird. His hand starts tracing soothing circles on her lower back as he turns to lead her out. It actually feels kind of nice. Do not lean on him, do not- hell, she's dizzy and he's sturdy. Action justified. They're out the door and at the lift when she starts tasting bile. He catches the urgent look in her eye and sighs, sliding his other hand under her jumper to rest against her belly. The cool of his skin is quickly followed by a numbing, tingly sensation. The next time she swallows, the bile and the nausea are gone. Bright green eyes watch her face, waiting for the colour to return before he withdraws to stand beside her. The adoration has faded, clearly an act, leaving something far more neutral in its wake. She can't help but feel a tad disappointed. 

"So. That's a neat trick." 

"Is it not customary to thank your healer?" 

"It was entirely your fault to begin with." 

She takes a peek out the corner of her eye and he's smiling. Standing there together, smiling to themselves, they wait for the elevator in silence.


	6. Welcome to the Building

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set post-Avengers (2012)
> 
> Darcy sets about making herself indispensable to S.H.I.E.L.D. A month later she stumbles upon an early morning meeting between Jane, Eric, Coulson, and Asgard's sexiest brothers. It looks like her early morning coffee runs are starting to pay off.
> 
> Eventual Darcy/Loki/M rating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY SORRY SORRY!
> 
> It's been an age, I know. Aside from uni, tonsilitis and sinusitis, I've just been introduced to Supernatural... and I kinda maybe got a little obsessed... I'm shipping Destiel so hard it hurts...
> 
> Thank you for your patience! 
> 
> Much love xoxo
> 
> B

That evening, when Darcy is finally, finally alone for what feels like the first time in her life, she flops onto her bed and closes her eyes in bliss.

"Sweet, sweet bed."

A weight drops down next to her but she refuses to open her eyes. Knowing her luck, it'll be a baby Dalek or a grenade or something equally incompatible with sleep. The mass of questionable identity shifts closer and starts purring.

"Hello, Grey Beard. How do you keep getting in? Nevermind. I don't care. Too tired."

She lazily pats the kitty, thinking back on her day. After she and Loki had delivered the coffees he took her up to the roof on the pretense of getting some fresh air. He hadn't been in a particularly talkative mood. In fact, he'd left her up there on her own for a solid half hour, telling her he had to see to something and asking her- instructing her- not to leave. By the time he returned, she'd already grown bored, tried to leave, and crashed headlong into the blank wall where the exit used to be. True, her logic had been inspired by Harry Potter, but hey, if Loki could exist, why not Platform Nine and Three Quarters? If anything, her ire served only to sweeten his return. Smug git.

Tony and Jane had made little progress in their absence. Between the two of them, they had devised a list of readings to bring Loki up to speed with the Midgardian sciencey side of the project. Loki, in his usual pigheaded manner, had refused the Stark Industries tablet and the extensive library contained within, insisting that he prefered to read in a more traditional manner. Darcy, therefore, was given a company card, a long list, and the afternoon off to go book shopping. She drew the line at individually printing off each online paper, throwing the words 'compromise' and 'hipster' around until he took the damn tablet to shut her up. Small victories.

As it turned out, Natasha decided to join her on the excursion. Too tired to trust her already questionable brain-to-mouth filter, Darcy insisted she hadn't yet fully recovered from her earlier nausea. The Agent hid her suspicion well, giving Darcy the opportunity to peacefully wander around the bookshop with her list and a trolley comandeered from the local supermarket. The two of them had dumped the books at Jane's apartment and parted ways with barely a word passed between them. 

So, to finally be unsupervised feels like bliss. Well, apart from the cat.

Darcy stares at Grey Beard, who stares straight back at her.

"You're right, you're always right," she mutters. "We need rum." Shuffling back over to the kitchen, she fetches a tall glass of rum for herself, a dash of rum in a saucer for Grey Beard, and, pausing by the fridge, she snatches the little magic notecard, too. Curling up in her bed, she takes a luxurious sip or five and watches Grey Beard appraise the alcohol. He takes a cautious lick and seems to consider it for a moment.

"Dude, it's hardly a fine wine. It's not meant to taste good."

Again, she can almost see the little kitty's eyebrow rise up before he turns back to the saucer and delicately laps up her offering.

She hopes cats aren't allergic to rum.

Shrugging, her attention shifts to the trickster's card. She looks over both sides carefully, tracing the words that must have appeared while she was at work.

'Kindly keep this artifact on your person at all times.'

She snorts and grabs a pen from her bedside table.

'Kindly acquire yourself a cell phone. Noob.'

His reply is an immediate, 'No'.

She eyes Grey Beard with a cheeky grin, mischief forming in her mind. Finished with his drink and wary of the look in her eyes, the cat makes a quick exit. She makes a careful scribble on the paper and bursts into a fit of giggles.

"I gift you with the means to magically communicate with a God and you use it to practice drawing phallic symbols."

Darcy responds by promptly falling off the bed with a surprised shriek.

"Stop doing that!"

"You're hardly in a position to give orders, Miss Lewis."

Glaring up at him from the ground, she flashes a rude hand guesture in his direction.

He smirks down at her. "Of course, pictures are said to be worth a thousand words, and I know your mobile is equipped with a camera. If you wish to communicate in, ah, suggestive images, I would be more than happy to share my number with you."

Darcy scoffs, "Since when have you had a cell phone?"

"Since my last arrival on Midgard. Your technology, while initially incompatible with much of my travels and magic, can easily be altered to accomodate interRealm communication with those who do not warrant a personal appearance."

Darcy considers this new information from the floor, remembering Thor's first attempts at utilising the local technology. The difference between the two brothers extends far beyond the obvious, light versus dark versus 'Oops I created an electrical storm when I borrowed your iPod.'

He seems to be following her train of thought. "I wouldn't call myself the evil villain to Thor's golden heroism. I'm rather more... chaotically neutral. While we're on the topic of my familial burden, however, I would like to take the opportunity to invite you to our House Warming tomorrow evening."

"You're having a house warming? Uh, why?"

"It was Jane's idea. She will be there, as well as a few members of the Avengers team. As she will be acting the role of hostess, it is fitting that you also attend from the outset."

"Ergh, why?"

"Your short term memory leaves much to be desired. You are to be to me as Jane is to Thor."

"Loki..."

"I believe you are required to provide a gift. May I suggest something directed towards my tastes? A decorative feature, perhaps? My colours are, if you haven't noticed, green, black, and gold."

"C'mon, seriously? I had plans."

"No, you didn't."

"Would it've mattered if I had?"

"No."

She sighs, staring up at him pitifully. He's sniffing her rum and frowning, seemingly content to peruse her belongings. Already he's run his damnably curious fingers along the windowsill and appraised the contents of her bedside table.

"Tell you what, you magic me back onto my mattress with a bottle of water, clean teeth and my pjs, and I'll show up tomorrow night with a girlfriend-appropriate house warming present and a smile on my face. Deal?"

She's tucked safely in bed a moment later, mouth minty fresh, rum and mischief maker disappeared, and a bottle of spring water on her bedside table. Whoever said deals with the devil had to turn out bad?

The next day, Darcy finds herself spamming her absent boss with text messages.

"Can I come over?"  
"Dude."  
"It's me."  
"Jane."  
"Jane."  
"JANE!"  
"JaNeJaNeJaNeJaNe!"

Grumbling, she paces around in front of Jane's apartment. She's tried knocking, calling, texting. Coulson won't help her. Thor's old number is disconnected. Eric is busy moving. She has the spare key with her, but what if they're doing the dirty? Ain't no Darcy wanna walk in on that.

So, for the first time since she discovered online shopping, Darcy visited a real, live, bricks and mortar shopping centre. On her own. Not a 7/11, not a cafe, not a bookshop. An actual mall-type situation, complete with public bathrooms and small children. It was there, somewhere between her purchasing the boys their very first game of Twister and Loki his very first selection of mortal fiction that she finds Jane.

"Where the hell, Jane?"

"Darcy! Should I ask why you've got giant matching onsies in your trolley?"

"Not important. What is important? Ah, I don't know, warning your bestest friend in the whole wide world about the impending house warming party of doom? Also, you realise I haven't spoken to you alone since Thor got here? I totally get the whole, I haven't seen his hammer in forever, I've missed his charming overuse of formal titles, we've got a lot to catch up on thing, but c'mon, bro, I'm getting attachment issues."

"Actually, Darce, those onsies are kind of pulling focus right now..."

"Jane!"

"Ok, ok, you're right and I'm sorry. It's been so-"

"So what's it like being hammered by a God?"

"Darcy!"

"What? I'm curious."

So very, very curious.

"You can't ask questions like that."

"Ah, actually, as your bestest friend, it's my job to ask questions like that. Somebody needs to help you out of your shame problem. You're banging Thunder Down Under, you need to deal with some public recognition without turning into, you know, a face furnace."

Jane glares from where she's started to sift through Darcy's trolley.

"There's a time and a place! Is this a- What the hell have you bought, Darcy? How did you afford all of this?"

Ah. Now it's Darcy's turn to avoid eye contact.

"Darcy."

"See, well, technically I only bought the Twister."

If anything, Jane looks more suspicious.

"What does that even mean?"

"Well, my new bestest buddy in the whole world, you know, after you betrayed me, well, technically he's a S.H.I.E.L.D. accountant. And technically, onsies come under clothing for visiting aliens. And, you know, I still have that company card..."

"Oh my God, Darcy! You can't just use work money to buy... what looks like at least two hundred dollars worth of Iron Man merchandise!"

"Well, I mean, it's a new apartment, S.H.I.E.L.D. is paying for the furnishings, Darren said it would be okay."

"Does Coulson know about this?"

"Well, no, but Darren thought it'd be funny. The only thing that can't be counted as a living expense is the Twister, really."

"What about all this fiction?"

Darcy scowls at the way Jane says 'fiction', like it's some kind of dirty word.

"Ah, I don't know if you've noticed, Doctor Science, but Loki is kinda a genius. Pretty confident he needs more than pure astrophysics to keep him occupied. He likes books. We're first in line if he goes homicidal, so yeah, excuse me for wanting to get on his good side."

Jane looks surprised. Darcy is fairly confident that it's to do with the insinuation that astrophysics won't keep a vengeful God occupied, but just to be sure she's not in actual trouble, "Okay, well, this is the last of it anyway. Wanna help me walk this over to the apartment? I can give you a hand setting up or moving stuff or whatever."

Jane's attention slips back towards her trolley.

"If you're sure. I mean, pop culture, Darcy? And mythology? Is that the Elder Edda?"

Darcy beams, "I'm gonna go through an highlight all the funny bits for him. I can't wait to find out what's true."

And, honesty, Darcy thinks, if the King of practical jokes can't take a little prod in the 'are you horse-sexual', he shouldn't have picked her for his stupid scheme. Never let it be said that Darcy is the type to let opportunity fly by unridiculed. 

That evening, when the boys return from whatever super secret appointment they've had in S.H.I.E.L.D., Darcy is expecting thanks. She and Jane spent the majority of their afternoon building furniture, stocking bookcases and mounting an unnecessarily big television screen. There's party food a-cooking, sweet treats cooling on racks, and they've even borrowed extra chairs from Jane's apartment. Therefore, when no thanks are recieved, she very graciously takes it upon herself to teach the jerks some manners. If the growing number of party guests happen to witness said lesson, so be it.

"Thor."

"Lady Darcy! This pizza is quite delicious!"

"Of course it is, Thor, it's got, like, four different species on it. Notice anything different about the apartment?"

Thor looks up from his cheesey meatlovers and spares a glance around the room, brow crinkled in a totally non-endearing way. "Is something wrong, Lady Darcy? I do not understand-"

"Thor. Concentrate. This morning, when you left to go play with S.H.I.E.L.D., what did the apartment look like?"

"Well, much like this, Lady Darcy, except without the people and furnishings."

"Bingo."

"Bingo? What is bingo?"

Darcy closes her eyes.

"Dude, seriously, concentrate. How do you think all these furnishings and people and, I don't know, this pizza, got to be in your apartment?"

"Well, Lady Jane said-"

"Ok, yes, Lady Jane. Look at Lady Jane, Thor. I mean, look at her arms. She's not buff like us, man. Furniture is heavy for us lowly ants. You have to thank her."

Thor looks from Darcy to Jane and murmurs his apology. "I sincerely apologise for any offence caused, Lady Darcy. I thank you both."

There's a self righteous snicker coming from somewhere right behind her so she spins around and pins her faux lover with a glare. "And you, Mr I-Could've-Set-Up-The-Apartment-With-A-Click-Of-My-Fingers! What would your mamma say? Pretty sure you weren't raised this rude!"

His eye is twitching. It's hilarious. Urge to rampage fading, she pointedly looks around at their bemused audience before locking stares with him, her own eyebrow quirked in silent challenge.

"My brother and I thank you, Miss Lewis, for your efforts this day."

Ooh, that sounded like it cost him. She inches closer, pushing her luck with a pointed glance towards Jane, who is trying not to cough up a lung over by the punch bowl.

"And Lady Jane, big shot."

"Of course. Thank you, Doctor Foster. We are most appreciative."

Jane clears her throat and smiles. "You're welcome, Loki."

Excellent! Finally!

"Right! Now! Presents!"


	7. New Kind of Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set post-Avengers (2012)
> 
> Darcy sets about making herself indispensable to S.H.I.E.L.D. A month later she stumbles upon an early morning meeting between Jane, Eric, Coulson, and Asgard's sexiest brothers. It looks like her early morning coffee runs are starting to pay off.
> 
> Eventual Darcy/Loki/M rating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sunday Surprise!
> 
> <3

In the weeks following the House Party, Darcy starts rethinking the constituates of her own personal 'normal'. 

It starts around the same time Tony invents the Twister Drinking Game. Turns out, carbonated beverages and greasy pizza aren't a big thing on Cloud Mythology. The resulting stress on Thor's mighty digestive system announces itself quite rudely, and to Darcy's internal glee, publicly. Standing there, surrounded by amused assassins, watching Loki smirk, Darcy decides two things. One, that Thor shall henceforth be known as Thunderbutt. Two, that maybe this whole sneaky arrangement doesn't have to be so bad.

And so, normal changes. Normal becomes Thor's all-sound, no-smell thunderfarts until everyone except Tony tries to wean him off pizza and double bacon cheeseburgers. Poor Thor was "very displeased", dragging Loki home mid-intervention to sulk in Jane's apartment for an entire afternoon. Tony, who declared their efforts unAmerican, got the entire thing on camera. The next day, all the office chairs have been carefully sliced open to make room for whoopee cushions. The local God of Mischief pleads not guilty, so, when they take bets on the culprit and draw up the surveillance tapes, the blame falls on Tony because there's nothing, no evidence to be found. Darcy gives JARVIS an internal high five in silent victory and Tony messes with her desktop background for a week in retaliation. JARVIS and her make a great team. Together they gang up on Tony whenever he stops by to check on progress. Tony doesn't mind, why would he? He's the one who programmed the AI to be so damn sarcastic in the first place.

Normal becomes YouTube spamming with Tony. The two of them have daily competitions to see who can find the most incriminating videos of the other Avengers. The winning video gets "anonymously" uploaded to the S.H.I.E.L.D. server every Friday afternoon. There's an unspoken agreement that, no matter how funny a Black Widow video may at first appear, it is never funny enough to go beyond the two of them. 

Normal becomes Loki using her couch as his own private throne. Most evenings she'll find him there, legs splayed and nose buried in a book. He tells S.H.I.E.L.D. that he wants to give Thor the space necesary to continue the courtship of Jane Foster unhindered. He tells the bugs in Darcy's house that he craves her company, that minutes on Earth pass too slowly without her. He tells Thor to mind his own business. He tells Darcy to essentially shut up and put up, in his own fancified way. Watching him getting comfy with a book, all feline and quiet and much less intimidating with his gaze directed elsewhere, Darcy thinks he just likes the peace and quiet. And, really, anyone harassed enough to find peace in her lousy apartment is welcome to it.   
Normal becomes the four of them, Darcy, Jane, Thor, and Loki, walking home together after work. Jane and Thor up front, hands clasped unless Thor starts talking- guestures make up a large part of Thor-speak. Darcy and Loki at the back, her hands tucked securely in her pockets, his content to flex and relax at his sides. 

Normal becomes his little mannerisms, his hands never really stilling when they're out in the open, like he needs them limber for something. Darcy refuses to let herself imagine what that something could be. Then there's the way he likes cinammon coffee in the mornings and chai stirred with a cinammon stick after 4pm. The way he'll only let her walk home without him if she's accompanied by Natasha. The way Natasha is the only Agent he doesn't openly scorn, almost like he could respect her. 

Normal is getting jealous sometimes, watching them interact with what must be his own approximation of nearly-fondness. She'd kinda like him to only be that nearly-fond of her, even if it is fabricated. There's something invigorating about affections, however pretend, coming from a guy accustomed to actual worship. Invigorating, but concerning.

Normal is fussing around with her coffee schedule or data input or with some new piece of Stark tech that the man himself has given her for consideration- somewhere in amongst their banter (read: blossoming best friendship), Stark had stumbled upon her inner geek, something he seems intent on encouraging. Point being, she'll be fussing around, hands typing one thing, mind thinking another, and she'll find herself staring. True, sometimes it's at the little gap between Thor's jeans and his tshirt when he stretches; the memory of him all topless in the desert is one of her favourite Kodak moments. Unfortunately, with increasing freqency, she'll catch herself staring at Loki, and every damn time he notices. You'd think that'd be enough to stop her, but the sly wink as he's sauntering over to check up on her is hardly a deterant. Nor is the ridiculous costume he favours when they're out of the public eye. Nor is the smell of all that leather and sourcery and whatever it is they use in the great laundromat in the sky. For a guy that doesn't seem to touch anyone, ever, unless he absolutely has to, he sure doesn't seem to mind getting all up in her personal space when the cameras are watching, so normal is the scent of Loki convincing the world that he thinks she's awesome. It smells a bit like a How To guide on getting warm in winter.

Yep. There's definitely a routine forming. Some nights, they'd all have dinner together, play at happy families. Mummy Jane and Daddy Thor, silly, scheming, arguing Darcy and Loki. Most nights, Loki will follow Darcy home like he belongs there. He'll open her locked door with a flick and stroll in like he owns the place, maybe summon a cup of chai before resuming his reading on the couch. This seems to be his quiet time, and most nights she'll let him be. Hardly seems worth poking the wild animal when he's acting so domesticated.

Of course, where's the fun in keeping a wild animal if you ain't gonna let it stretch his claws every now and then? Because, come on, this is Darcy, and even before Loki, normal for Darcy comes with an argument.

"You lied to me!"

Loki keeps reading.

She marches over and snatches his book away, glaring down at him.

He stretches and crosses his arms behind his head sleepily. He's wearing a soft tunic over his leather pants tonight, very Medieval Casual.

"Yes."

"Yes? That's all you have to say? 'Yes'?"

 

"God of Lies," he yawns.

She kicks the couch and suddenly he's glaring down at her. "Stop this nonsense immediately. You humans and your egos. Yes, I have lied to you. Yes, I will lie to you again. Your indignation is unreasonable and unflattering. I suggest you address your own gullibility rather than rely on the world to change around you. If you would like to discuss a specific lie, by all means, but cease this pathetic tantrum immediately." He snatches back his book and gracefully curls up on the couch again.

She spins around and stomps back to the kitchen. She makes two cups of tea, delighting in slamming and smashing every door and drawer as she goes. Most of her anger has dissipated by the time the kettle has boiled. Returning to the lounge room, she sets one cup down beside him and settles herself on the other side of the couch with the other. It took a glare off of epic proportions to convince Loki that sharing the couch won't give him cooties, and she's fairly sure the resulting silent, broody hissy fit gave S.H.I.E.L.D.'s bugs their very first glimpse of trouble in paradise. It was totally worth it the first time he let her sneak her feet onto his lap, all obliviously pliant like a real boy. Now, normal is Darcy's feet on or around Loki's lap whenever they share a couch.

He continues to read.

"You don't want them to think we're banging because you want them to think you're reformed."

He hums in agreement, shifting absentmindedly to let her dig her toes in, cozy and warm, beneath his thigh.

"You want them to think we're banging because you want them to suspect that you haven't. You want them suspicious and on guard. I mean, I'm the obvious choice. I've got enough of an in with S.H.I.E.L.D. to be useful, but I'm so below the radar- oh my God, Loki, you're such a dick- but you're not actually planning on using me for S.H.I.E.L.D., are you? You're just messing with them, dangling the intern carrot for them to investigate."

He's watching her now, face blank.

"So, I guess I'm curious. What else are you dangling?"

His lips twitch in the ghost of a smirk.

"Shut up, you know what I mean."

"That is rather astute of you, Miss Lewis."

"You're not going to tell me, are you?"

He winks at her before turning back to his book.

"If you want to see my carrot, Miss Lewis, you need only ask."

She's starting to think that maybe normal includes a little bit of flirting, too.

Only problem being, the more time she spends with Loki, the less she sees daddy Coulson and, strangely, Greybeard.

The cat thing she kinda understands; animals have an innate sense of self preservation, right? She takes to feeding the cat in the mornings, before Loki picks her up. Sometimes she'll catch the ninja kitty sneaking around the house when Loki's reading, but they're never, ever in the same room together. Smart kitty.

The Coulson thing has her a bit stumped. She'd have thought Agent Protective would be spending more time loitering around, the way he usually does when he's suspicious or, you know, an enemy of the planet makes a claim on her couch. She still sees him at work, but his expression is always that well practiced, professional, Default Agent blank canvas. It bugs her for weeks until she snaps and, desperate for a rant, corners Tony on one of his visits. What else are besties for, right?

"Tony. Coulson. What's his deal, bro?"

Tony flicks off his monitor and blinks at it, pulling his mind out of whatever complex problem he'd been solving and reorienting himself to her presence. It's a weird thing to watch, really, but she's getting used to watching his eyes to check his focus.

"Darce, I know I'm a genius and all, but you're gonna need to give me more than that to work with, here."

"Coulson. He's being all... Repressed. What gives?"

Tony's eyes widen slightly and he leans back, tapping his lips thoughtfully.

"You mean, repressed towards you?"

"Ah, yeah."

"Huh. Something the good Director's not telling us, I wonder? J? You there?"

"For you, sir? Always."

"Anything new in the last few weeks? Anything I wouldn't've looked for?"

"Running scans, but may I make a suggestion, Miss Lewis?"

"I'm all ears, J-dawg."

"Agent Coulson has increased his access to the surveillance records taken from your apartment by 400% over the last two weeks. I imagine his change in behaviour is related to the company you now keep."

Huh. Tony's eyes have narrowed at her and his hands are strangely still, the stylus he'd been twirling abandoned.

"Something you wanna share with the group, kiddo?"

"You mean Loki? Coulson seemed all aboard with him helping out around here, why should he care if I hang with him?"

Thing about Tony is, when his hands stop fiddling and clicking and tapping, it means he's solved an equation.

"Coulson ever tell you about the time Loki stabbed him through the chest and left him to die?"

Oh.

Suddenly, Darcy is angry. It's a rare thing with her. Sure, she gets cross a lot. Sure, she loves a good arguement. Truthfully, though, Darcy's a chiller, not a fighter, and yeah, deep down, she's always known that Loki's an evil dick. Yeah, he tried to kill Thor, but Thor's his brother. That should make it worse, but somehow, she kinda gets it. Yeah, he succeded in killing a bucketload of Agents and innocent civilians, but Coulson isn't just some Agent, Coulson is one of Darcy's people.

Darcy is furious and Tony is still talking. She thinks she can hear JARVIS responding, something to do with the surveillance records, but it won't register.

"Yep, nope, Coulson never mentioned that. I've gotta go. Ah, reasons. You know. Yeah. Bye, guys."

And now she's gotta decide who she's going to yell at first. 

She's halfway to Coulson's office when she spots a wild Loki making contemplative eyes at a vending machine. Rarely one to ignore a hint from the Fates, Darcy storms over and kicks him in the shins as hard as she can.

Frankly, she's surprised that he lets her.

"Darcy."

His voice is low and his eyes narrow as he turns to her, stooping to meet her at eye level. It makes her kinda thankful that this had to happen now, after he's grown well enough accustomed to her mood swings to ask before smiting.

"Loki."

"Care to explain why you're assaulting my person?"

She scoffs. "Care to explain why you assaulted my Coulson?"

His head tilts.

"You're upset."

"You're surprised?!"

He sighs and reaches a hand around to settle on the curve of her back, his favourite public guesture of togetherness. She slaps it away and crosses her arms with a glare.

It's both frustrating and a relief that she can kick, scratch, slap and punch Loki til the cows come home and still not hurt him. Frustrating because he deserves a good beating, a relief because she knows he wouldn't let her get away with this, deal or not, if she were an actual threat. Not that it'd stop her, really.

"You are in so much trouble. Why the hell did no one tell me? You didn't think that might be, I don't know, a teensy bit relevant? I want my Coulson back, Loki, but now he thinks I'm shacking up with his would-be murderer! Fix it, you arse!"

Loki's expression seems to wobble just the tiniest bit and she leans in slightly to decipher it, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Oh no, don't you DARE find this funny!"

He makes a show of composing himself, reaching over to settle his stupidly strong hands on her shoulders. She tries to squirm away, frustration starting to itch behind her eyes, but then he's frikking holding her.

She freezes.

"Darcy, listen to me."

Her hands clench, ready to smack him in the ribs, but he keeps talking.

"I cannot deny my actions towards Agent Coulson, nor can I deny my motives in allowing this information to be kept secret from you. I will not apologise for my past, Darcy. Were I in the same position a second time, were I again to oppose the armies of Midgard, I cannot say that I would spare him. He is a soldier in your planet's army, and in agreeing to be so, he allows himself the risk of falling in battle."

"He's my friend, jerk."

"And he is very lucky to be so. I am not the only force Agent Coulson has come up against, Darcy. Were I to swear eternal alleigance to your planet and its people, were I to be forever removed as a threat against you and yours-"

He lifts her chin to meet her eyes.

"You are stubborn, Darcy, but you cannot protect them all. He is mortal. One day, be it in battle or in illness, he will fall."

Oh, and she's furious, she's burning with indignation, how dare he try to poke holes in her deepest fears, what, he thinks the truth from the mouth of a liar is some kind of balm? But his lips are suddenly there, cool and soft on her forehead until she pushes as hard as she can and he lets her go, eyes burning into her back as she storms away.

"Coulson! Coulson, where the hell-"

She's marching into Coulson's office like she's breaching the gates of hell, righteous fury in her eyes until she sees him, all stoic at his computer with an eyebrow twitching its way up in confusion.

And just like that, she's not angry any more. Instead, she's shuffling behind the desk to where he's standing up, all wary and confused until she's hugging him.

No, that's not the sound of her sniffling.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me that Loki stabbed you?"

Just like that, they're on the same page again. He lets her stand there and hug him, awkwardly patting her back until she backs up.

So, not that it's anyone's business, but she and Coulson are buddies again. Somewhere in amongst her threats to end him if he ever lets some stupid, try-hard super villain with a leather fetish anywhere close enough to do damage, she gets a little smile. Closing the door to his office on her way out, she hears him chuckle to himself and she smiles, glad to be back on side. Good thing daddy Coulson is so badass. Darcy's pretty sure anyone strong enough to survive Loki at his jerkiest is here to stay.


	8. Busted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set post-Avengers (2012)
> 
> Darcy sets about making herself indispensable to S.H.I.E.L.D. A month later she stumbles upon an early morning meeting between Jane, Eric, Coulson, and Asgard's sexiest brothers. It looks like her early morning coffee runs are starting to pay off.
> 
> Eventual Darcy/Loki/M rating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!
> 
> ONE MORE WEEK TIL MID SEMESTER BREAK, HUZZAH!
> 
> Hoping you've all had an excellent Easter ^.^ and a great big thank you to everyone who has left feedback- it's really the most addictive feeling.
> 
> Love love love,
> 
> B

That evening, it's Natasha's turn walking Darcy home. Nobody's reportedly seen the magician since their little lover's spat so the other woman is curious. 

"I hear you and Loki had a fight today." 

"Yup." 

Sometimes it's hard to remember that Natasha is, in effect, S.H.I.E.L.D.s deadliest babysitter-slash-interrogator. Other times, the red head seems a tad too obvious. Maybe, Darcy muses, that's only because Loki and Tony, the two smartest guys she knows, have deliberately cautioned her on the subject. Maybe, if had been Jane to prod, Darcy would've spilled her soul on the pavement without a second thought. 

"Would you like to talk about it?" 

Darcy chuckles, searching her mind for information S.H.I.E.L.D. would've already inferred from her hissy in Coulson's office. 

"It was stupid, really. Sometimes I forget what he's capable of, you know, things he could do to people." 

Natasha is smiling at her side, eyes lost to the horizon. "It's different when it's someone you know." 

"Yeah. It is." 

They're nearly home before the Widow speaks again; her words are gentle and her eyes, always so focused, have somehow lost that hard edge. "Not many of us in this business can throw around judgment about second chances. Still, I don't trust Loki-" 

Darcy elbows the other girl, "You don't trust anyone, Nat." 

Natasha's laugh is well practiced; the joke's an old one. 

"Maybe." 

The girls are quiet again, footsteps evenly matched. Darcy muses about body language and mirroring and wonders whether it's intuitive for spies or if it's something they get taught. 

"Darcy, you're going to do what you want regardless of what I say. Keep Coulson in the loop. He worries." 

They're at the front of Darcy's building now. Normally Natasha will walk her to the apartment door, but instead she pauses long enough to make eye contact, long enough to communicate a clear cut 'we'll be watching', before she's just another pedestrian. 

There's a hint of unease settling in her belly and Darcy mopes in the lobby. Guilt trips are up there in the pride of her own personal arsenal and no, it doesn't feel great to have one worked against her. 

She's still moping by the time she reaches her apartment. Pausing at the entrance with a groan, her head falls forward to thunk against the door while she searches for her keys. Stupid Loki, taking over her stupid apartment and her stupid couch. 

"Ow." 

She needs to stop banging her head. 

There's a mysterious sniffling noise. Darcy puts it down to the neighbours. 

The door swings open and she shuffles inside, ignoring the couch in favour of the kitchen. She takes out a saucepan, milk, and a block of chocolate. And marshmallows. And whipped cream. And sprinkles. And the giant soup mug Jane bought her. 

The mysterious sniffling noise stops with her first sip of chocolatey heaven. 

Shuffle, shuffle, back to the lounge room. She pauses in the doorway, mug to her lips. Loki is sitting on the couch, or, at least, he's not fetal with a book. His feet are firmly planted on the ground a good mile apart and one hand drums against the arm rest. She very carefully avoids eye contact and begins to edge towards her bedroom door. 

"Darcy." 

The edging takes on a slightly frantic quality. 

"Darcy, come here." 

Slowly, carefully, she lets her gaze slip along the floor to his feet and up his legs. She's just breached the point of his chin when he lets out an impatient sneer. 

"No, no, in your own time!" 

Her gaze snaps up to lock on his and she glares. He just raises an eyebrow and pats the cushion next to him, all polite condescension. 

She glares down at the floor as she shuffles over to perch next to him. 

"I'm surprised. If I'd known stabbing your nearest and dearest would keep you this quiet, I'd have made another attempt weeks ago." 

Ok, so that's a little funny. She cracks a smile and relaxes back into the couch a little, looking over at him slyly. "Oh, I don't know, Smurfette, I think you'd miss me." 

"Perhaps." 

"You try anything and I'll kill you." 

He laughs at her. 

"Seriously, Loki." 

"Oh, I believe you'd try." 

"I'd poison all the cinnamon." 

His eyes widen in faux horror. "Insolent mortal scum!" 

"Megalomaniac trickster." 

"At your service," he nods. 

Her feet swing up and land on his lap a tad harder than necessary and she lets her head fall back against the couch. 

"Loki?" 

"Mmm?" 

"You're actually insane, aren't you?" 

"Clinically." 

"What's that like?" 

He smiles, hands moving to remove her socks. She raises a brow and pokes him lazily with a painted toe. The tension of the day is slowly draining, leaving her gooey and drowsy and curious. 

"Chaotic. Invigorating." 

His hands are massaging her feet now, strong fingers gentle on her instep. 

"Have you always been insane?" 

"No, but I believe I've always been chaotic." 

"Bet you were a terror growing up. Your poor mum." 

He hums in reply. 

"So the insane thing, why'd that happen?" 

He rolls his eyes at her insistence. 

"I fell." 

"Thor says you chose to fall." 

"Does he?" 

"Says they thought you'd died." 

He chuckles again but she's too content to question it. She's never had a foot rub before. It feels a bit like her feet are melting and she closes her eyes just in case they actually do- with Loki you can never be sure. 

"Dying is perhaps an appropriate metaphor. I am not the same as once I was." 

"Change doesn't have to be bad, right?" 

"Right." 

"And, I mean, you're not trying to kill us all at the moment, right?" 

"Not at this particular moment." 

"But you might change your mind tomorrow?" 

"If the mood takes me, perhaps." 

"And you'd kill us all? Like, actually?" 

He pinches gently at her ankle. 

"Do not worry, Darcy. You have nothing to fear. Even if I were to overthrow this planet, there is little more I can learn from you, tactically speaking. I see no real benefit in torturing you. Your death would be quick and painless." 

She hits him with a pillow and grins lazily at the playful glare she gets in response. 

"You're not kidding anyone, Icey McMagic. Beneath that sarcastic, smug, irritating facade is a sometimes-tolerable bookworm with a sugar fetish." 

And what's more, Darcy thinks as she starts to drift off, we're kinda actual friends now, and friends don't let friends murder their other friends. 

The next morning, Darcy wakes with a Thorish yawn and stretches out, one limb to each corner of the bed. Loki must've tucked her in. It's kinda touching, seeing as the guy hasn't yet mastered the art of disposing of his take out coffee cups or, you know, contributing anything halfway civil to a discussion if Thor gets too heavily involved. 

She's pulled from her sleepy contemplations by a disturbing announcement from her belly, so loud that it draws Grey Beard out from where he must have been napping in her hamper. The cat looks so damn indignant that Darcy can't help but laugh as she scoops him up on her way to the kitchen. 

"Sorry, ol' Grey, I slept through dinner. I'll make it up to you. How do you feel about waffles?" 

Turns out, Grey Beard is indifferent to waffles but will go completely nuts for maple syrup. His golden eyes bug out and lose focus. Within minutes, his little face is covered in sticky goodness and crumbs. She's barely finished with her own plate before he pounces, face first, to lap up the excess. Ok, she resolves, no more cats on the kitchen bench. Sharing cooties with stray kitty cats is probably asking for more trouble than she's after. 

Speaking of trouble, there's someone at her door. She leaves Grey Beard to crouch possessively over his syrupy conquest and marches over, slipping on an oversized jumper as she goes. Loki must be running early today. He's only started knocking if he thinks she'll still be- and this was an embarrassing conversation- 'prancing about naked'. 

"Hey man, you better have magicked me into these pjs because I swear to God, if I find out you undressed my unconscious body manually, I will- Tony." 

There is a Tony Stark on her doorstep, and he does not look impressed. She gawks and switches to autopilot, moving back as he sashays into her apartment with searching eyes and a crease between his brows. 

"Ah, you got a warrant there, officer?" 

"Yeah, see, I'm hoping I don't need one. Thought I'd give you a chance to explain what the fuck's going on before I go marching over to Fury with a couple of weeks worth of tampered surveillance footage." 

Oh, goody. She has a fleeting thought to call for Loki, but shoves it down almost immediately. 

"Alright. Ok. Give me a sec, just gonna let Jane know I'll be late for work." 

"Already done. They're not expecting you in today." 

"Want a coffee?" 

"Stop stalling, Lewis." 

"Right. So. I'll just skip the part where I say 'It's not what it looks like!' and you don't believe me. Honestly? I don't know what Loki put on those tapes. He told me he'd feed some B.S. about us getting it on, but actually we've just been chilling." 

"So you're telling me the God of Mischief has been feeding false information to S.H.I.E.L.D. to, what, hang out?" 

"Ah, well, mostly he just sits on the couch and reads." 

Tony rubs at his forehead and sighs. 

"Only you, Darce, I swear." 

"Don't know what to tell you, bossman." 

Poor Tony doesn't seem to quite know what to do with the information. Guy looks tired. Darcy sighs, "C'mon, man, let me get you a coffee, then maybe you can show me what Loki's been feeding you. I'd kinda given up on ever seeing it myself, dude's pretty evasive when he wants to be." 

She leaves the perplexed older man to his own devices and heads back to the kitchen. Grey Beard is sprawled out on the bench, the very picture of fluffy contentment with his little food baby reaching for the heavens. She snickers and takes a quick photo. 

She's just pouring Tony's coffee when her wallet announces its presence in a loud rendition of 'Smooth Criminal'. She wonders when these things stopped surprising her so much. Tucked in behind her ancient library card she's hidden Loki's little magical piece of paper. They've not had a reason to use it- when he wants to speak to her, he tends to just pop up unannounced or, if he's off adventuring with Thor, he'll just text. That he's assigned the damn thing a ringtone is so typically him that she finds herself smiling as she starts to read his message. 

'Why does Jane say that you're not coming to work?' 

She scrawls back, 'I've got a visitor. I'll explain later.' 

'It is not ladylike to entertain male guests unchaperoned.' 

'Suck it, you almighty hypocrite.' 

'What does Stark want?' 

'TL;DR. Talk later, bro. MWA MWA MWA!' 

With that, she tucks the slip away in her freezer to muffle the sounds of Loki's indignation. Not polite to keep billionaires waiting. 

Tony has pulled a fancy Stark Tech tablet out of seemingly nowhere- or, you know, maybe from that briefcase she hadn't noticed earlier- and is scrolling through a series of images with a frown. 

"Ok, where shall we start? Loki's declaration of undying love? The breaking in of the couch? The nauseating cuddling? Seriously, Darce, my eyes are burning here. If I didn't know it was faked- no wonder Coulson lost his shit." 

"Wait, breaking in the couch?" 

"Yeah." 

"Naked?" 

"Yeah." 

She sits down heavily. 

"Coulson has seen me naked." 

Tony pats her knee in commiseration. 

"Coulson has seen us all naked, Darce. It's kind of his thing. You're not part of the team til there's naked footage floating around for perves like me to unearth." 

"Yeah, well, that makes it Loki, Natasha, you, Coulson-" 

"Loki and Natasha?" 

"I was in the shower. It's a long story." 

"I'll bet." 

It's nice to have someone to talk to about this. In an ideal world, Darcy would've pounded down Jane's door the moment Loki even mentioned a deal. Jane, bless her, would've gone straight to S.H.I.E.L.D. or Thor. Tony, on the other hand, has stood proudly defiant against S.H.I.E.L.D. often enough that it must be kind of second nature. So long as she can convince him that, between the two of them, they can keep Loki under control, she's pretty sure he'll keep quiet. 

"Hey, Tony, do you think you'll be pissed at Loki forever?" 

"Ah, guy threw me out my own window." 

"Yeah, but-" 

"Out. My own. Window." 

She laughs, "Oh, c'mon, man. You destroy your own property so often I'm betting window replacement doesn't even feature on your Top Ten Architectural Inconveniences." 

The corner of his mouth raises in a little smile. 

"'Sides, I think Loki kinda doesn't hate you." 

It's true. She wouldn't say that Loki respects Tony, not in that weird way he does Natasha, but she's started to notice a pattern to their shared insults. The bite is long gone; sometimes she'll catch Loki having a little smirk to himself afterwards. 

"I think he likes that you're smart enough to keep up with him. Plus, he practically cackled the time he told me about you and Thor fighting over him." 

Tony crinkles his brow and opens his mouth, no doubt to rebuff her, when he's interrupted. 

"My, my. Darcy, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to set us up." 

Ok, so, she thought she was getting used to him popping up out of nowhere, but- 

"Fuck's sake, Loki! We've talked about this!" 

Tony is glaring, Darcy is pouting, and Loki is smiling. It figures. 

Loki stops smiling when he notices her sleeping boxers poking out from under her jumper. 

"Oh, don't you dare get pissy with me, you fabricated a Darcy-slash-Loki porno for S.H.I.E.L.D., you creepy bastard! I did not agree to that!" 

He sighs and waves his hand dismissively. Her sleeping boxers expand into a pair of tracksuit pants. 

"You need to leave, Loki." 

"Why, Stark, are you going to throw me out Darcy's window?" 

"Oh, sweetheart, -" 

"Tony, shut up. Loki, be nice to my bestie or people are gonna start thinking you're jealous." 

Loki glares, "Stark, get off the couch." 

Oh, my God, Darcy thinks, Loki is pulling a Sheldon. 

"Alright, both of you, into the kitchen. We're going to sort this out like gentlemen or so help me I will borrow those fancy Ass-guard handcuffs- Tony, I swear, I have Pepper's number and I am not afraid to use it- Then you're getting the hell out of my apartment, seriously, go sort it out at the gym or something, the tension in here makes me feel like a cock-on-cockblock-" 

Darcy somewhat aggressively herds the two into her tiny kitchen. Neither man seems particularly impressed by the sticky state of her counter top but, hey, at least they're too grossed out to notice her cock-on-cock comment. Once they're seated, she stands at the head of the table and glowers down at them, arms crossed in irritation. 

"Okay, here's how this is gonna go-" 

Darcy would like to be able to say, 'and then we had a civil conversation, solved all our problems, and ate cake together like the happy family we're meant to be.' 

Unfortunately, instead, Tony sneezed. 

"- bless you-" 

He sneezes again. 

"You alright there, buddy?" 

"Ah, yeah- ah-CHOO- I'm just, hey, you don't happen to- ah-CHOO- have a cat or anything, do you?" 

Loki immediately goes rigid and- oh, seriously? He sniffs the air. 

"Well, no, cept for my drinking buddy Grey Beard, he's been hanging out a bit lately. You've just missed him-" 

Loki goes from constipated to bemused in one great big sigh, the transformation relaxing his posture until he's holding his head loosely between his hands. The fingers that worked wonders on Darcy's feet set to work massaging his temples, and she starts wondering about deities and hand hygiene. Slowly, his eyes raise to meet hers. 

"For how long have you had a cat, Darcy?"


	9. Grey Beard's Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set post-Avengers (2012)
> 
> Darcy sets about making herself indispensable to S.H.I.E.L.D. A month later she stumbles upon an early morning meeting between Jane, Eric, Coulson, and Asgard's sexiest brothers. It looks like her early morning coffee runs are starting to pay off.
> 
> Eventual Darcy/Loki/M rating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, my darlings! 
> 
> As always, thank you to everyone who has left feedback, especially everyone who has commented. Gives me the warm fuzzies, you know ^.^
> 
> As a heads up, my work isn't beta-read so, yep, there are mistakes. Once the whole thing is finished I'm going to go back over it and give it an epic edit, but for now I'm just concentrating on keeping the story going.
> 
> Notes at the end are just a few points of clarification ^.^ enjoy!
> 
> xoxo 
> 
> B

There's something kinda disturbing about the look on Loki's face. At first glance, yeah, he's relaxed, but if you can get past the hypnotising green and zoom in to his right eyelid there's an itty bitty twitch that Darcy's never seen before. 

Slowly, cautiously, she answers his question. "Ah, awhile, I guess? I suppose it's been a bit longer than I've known you." 

His weary sigh suggests that the timeframe isn't a huge surprise, and at her side Tony is immediately suspicious. Or maybe that's just his allergies face, Darcy muses. Merciful being that she is, she wanders off to find some antihistamines. They're tucked away in a shoe box in the cupboard over the microwave and she spins around, successful, to find Loki bent over the syrupy counter top. She chucks the medication over to Tony, raising an eyebrow in question. He pulls a face and shrugs, guesturing rudely at Loki's back. 

"So, watcha doin' there, Loki?" she ventures. 

"I don't suppose the cat has left any hair behind?" 

"Well that's definitely not creepy." 

Loki ignores Tony to swipe a finger through a sticky paw print. "What are the chances I can convince you both to vacate the area?" 

The mortals share a pointed look, replying in unison, "Slim to none." 

Loki's mumbles his reply under his breath. Probably something rude, Darcy guesses, and probably something in an alien language. She's never heard Loki speak anything other than English and sure, he doesn't have an obviously bizarre accent, but she's not nearly 'Murican enough to assume all conscious life forms have a shared appreciation for her native tongue. 

Finally standing up straight, Loki absentmindedly rubs the syrup between his thumb and ring finger. 

"Well then, if you will not leave, I must ask you both to remain quiet and respectful at all times. Do not speak unless spoken to, do not move unless instructed to, and for the love of all that is good in your world, do not cause offense or I swear I shall end you both where you stand." 

He starts to move his hands as he speaks, sharp, complicated guestures that blur the edges of her vision and make it difficult to focus. Sharing another glance with Tony, Darcy mimes zipping her mouth shut and raises her hands in the universal guesture for 'whoa there, buddy, calm yourself'. By the time Loki's re-caught her attention, his hands have stilled and he's staring at the windowsill. Grey Beard is standing in the open window, eyes big and calm and golden, meeting Loki's blank stare with a serene gaze of his own. 

"Mother." 

At first Darcy assumes that this is just another symptom of Loki's madness; Grey Beard is (a) a cat, (b) a boy, and (c) clearly of pirate origins. If he's anyone's mother, surely he's Fury's. But then the damn cat smiles up at him, all quietly bemused, and there's a warm circle of light floating right in front of her damn kitchen sink. The cat leaps through the light only to be caught by a rapidly materialising pair of delicate, shimmery hands, attached to an equally rapidly materialising pair of arms, and from there the rest of a golden body just expands into existence right in front of the kitchen sink. The resulting woman couldn't be more beautiful if she tried, and if Darcy wasn't so awestruck she'd probably be ten shades of jealous. That she's from the same world as Thor is a given; the molten haze is fading but the woman herself seems to exude sunlight and something just a little bit extra, something unattainable to even the brightest humans. There's Thor's golden hair, Thor's laughter shining from her eyes, Thor's love of brocade stitched onto her ornate dress. She's older, yes, but the years show in her air of ancient wisdom, not in her face. Darcy's mouth hangs open in a probably-rude expression of surprise but the aura of calm that's descended upon the kitchen is overpowering. 

The golden woman is smiling at Loki, her lips lifted in guilty amusement as she adjusts Grey Beard in her arms. "Good morning, Loki." 

Poor Loki's eyes flick once, quickly, between his mother and his mortal companions and, trapped by his royal upbringing, he makes his introductions. 

"Mother, may I introduce Miss Darcy Lewis and Mr Anthony Stark of Midgard. Miss Lewis, Mr Stark-" his guesture is strained but practiced and graceful, "- Frigga, Queen of Asgard." 

The Queen gently inclines her head in greeting. "Darcy, Anthony, it is a pleasure to finally meet you both." 

Darcy nods back slowly, words failing her in what feels like the second major betrayal of the day. Tony, on the other hand, seems entirely too at ease. There's a pretty serious flirt-smirk rapidly blooming on his face that's giving her some ultimate trepidation feels. Luckily (luckily?) Loki notices around the same time she does, and Stark's mouth snaps shut with an audible, involuntary click. 

"Now, Loki, that wasn't very nice." 

"I assure you, Stark deserved it. Shall we continue this conversation in the lounge room?" 

"Of course. Please, Darcy, lead the way." 

Ok, so, Darcy is struggling. There are now two mythical deities in her kitchen, acting fancy-as-you-please, one of whom is apparently also the stray cat that's been visiting her house and eating her ice cream and licking her plate clean, and nobody else seems to be freaking out. Plus, you know, how the hell did she get here? If she can just materialise herself across the cosmos, what's with the rainbow bridge? And furthermore- 

"Darcy?" 

Christ, and now the queen of damn near everything is looking at her, all concerned and motherly and beautiful, and the injustice of the situation is making Darcy irritable, and- 

"Darcy." 

This time it's Loki, raising an eyebrow in exasperation as though he can't see the problem with magical pirate cats and apparating queens. 

"Just give me a minute here, yeah? Go on through, I'll just be over here, not freaking out, just, you know, making a coffee." 

Loki raises an eyebrow and, damnit, she blushes a bit. 

"Ah- Your Majesty. Majesties. Plural." 

Loki turns to face her completely now, and his eyes purposefully move from her to her cell phone on the table and back again. His meaning is clear- there won't be any reception. No chance of calling for backup. Tony, apparently free to talk again, rolls his eyes and nudges her out from where she's standing because, yes, she's blocking the doorway. 

"Chin up, Lewis," he murmurs with a little wink. She smiles a tense little smile back at him. 

Frigga follows after Tony, pausing similarly to gift her with a knowing smile. Grey Beard just stares up at her from where he's nestled into the queen's robes, all content and purring and proud of himself. Darcy feels her eyes narrow in response and makes a mental note to hide the remainder of the syrup. 

Loki is the last to leave. She expects a curt little instruction or a reminder to stand up straight or even just a little jab at her flustered countenance, but instead he just pauses at her side, leaning in to whisper in her ear, "Calm yourself, Darcy Lewis." For a moment, the intimacy of his action unsettles her further. She starts to seethe but then, true to form, he pinches her arse. It's like a jolt back to reality, bringing her out of her mind funk so fast that she's slapping his hand away and pushing him out the door like her puny mortal strength actually means something. 

Minutes later, she's charging into the lounge room where Loki appears to have magicked into being a second, larger couch for his mother. Darcy's face screws up in suspicion. 

"That couch better not be stolen." 

Big green eyes blink over at her from where he's standing to the side of his mother. The 'why, I'd never!' seems to be implied. 

"No coffee, then?" 

"Not for you, Stark, I could hear your fidgeting from the kitchen. Sit down before you hurt yourself." 

Darcy turns to the royals and breaths deeply. "Can I get you anything to drink, your Majesty?" 

"No, thank you, Darcy. Please, call me Frigga." 

Darcy is now on first name basis with three Gods and Tony Stark. Uh, awesome. She also appears to have interrupted some kind of deep and meaningful, because by the time she's sat herself down next to Tony, Frigga is speaking again. 

"Loki, you are my son, returned from the dead and a changed man. This new path you have chosen is noble, and for that I am proud of you, but it is dangerous. Your father and I both fear for you." 

"Your visions?" 

Frigga's tiny smile seems enough to answer his question; Loki moves to sit by her side, his mouth pursed in contemplation. Frigga's movements are fluid and graceful and heartbreakingly motherly as she takes his hand in hers and seeks out eye contact. 

“I have faith in you, Loki, because I know you as only a mother can know her child. Your chosen companions, however, are little more to me than characters in your brother's stories. You will act as you please, as always, but I admit, I have been curious." 

Looking at the two of them together, awkwardly spying on their moment, Darcy wonders why she's never heard Thor or Loki discuss their mother. Sure, there's a whole lot of Allfather thrown around, but on reflection, until today she'd only heard Frigga's name in story books. 

"And the Allfather? What does he think of your methods?" 

"The Allfather holds no authority over a mother's business. Your father-" 

"Oh, but he insists that they are one and the same." 

"Loki, for all his faults, he is still your father. Through all his mistakes and through all of yours, he loves you, just as I do. Just as Thor does." 

"It is of little matter. I have followed the terms of our agreement-" 

"Loki-" 

Darcy feels for Frigga, she really does. When Loki gets that stubborn resolve in his eyes there's no reasoning with him.

"You should return home. Take Gná with you, she has undoubtedly grown weary of her current form." 

"Gná?" 

Four pairs of eyes turn to face Tony, and Darcy tilts her head to reply. 

"What's a-" 

Grey Beard's whiskers twitch in a sheepish little kitty smile and- oh. Ohhhh. 

"She? You said she. She?!" 

Tony sneezes. Darcy pales. Frigga's smile returns. 

"Loki, if you'd please?" 

Nah or Gná or whoever the She-cat jumps down from Frigga's lap to settle herself primly in the middle of the lounge room floor as Loki shifts down to kneel opposite. Head bowed, he lifts a hand to gently place two fingers between those golden, shining eyes. 

A few moments pass, and Darcy shifts in her seat, eyes flicking up to Tony in time to catch his little start of surprise. And, oh, she can see it too, the way the air around the cat is shifting and pulsing and expanding. This is nothing like the gentle spread of light that heralded Frigga's entrance. This is the tug-pull-unravel of energy encasing her feline friend, imposter though he/she may be, and Darcy doesn't think, she surges forward only to be caught around the waist and pulled back, hard, into the warmth of Tony's arms. The two of them freeze as a bubble of energy forms and pulses out, bigger, bigger, smaller, retracting into the shape of a kneeling woman. The energy shifts over her skin, blurring her form, until the woman's head lifts against Loki's hand. As their contact breaks, the energy sinks down into her pores until all that's left is another golden maiden of Asgard. 

If they all look so damn golden, Darcy's mind unhelpfully supplies, how was Loki's adoption such a shock? What kind of advanced alien life form doesn't take Genetics 101? 

Wait, excellent, the cat lady is making eyes at her. Great, big eyes- and, seriously, if Darcy thinks the word 'golden' one more time she's going to jump out her own window. 

The woman stands and moves towards Darcy, who retaliates by inching further backwards into the comfort of Tony's lap. Catching the movement, cat lady smiles ruefully and stops, eyes still seemingly intent on burning their way through Darcy's soul. Uncomfortable under the scrutiny, Darcy's gaze shift to Loki where he's sat back down next to Frigga, then to the front door, then to her laptop where it's charging at the power point. Interesting things, power points. 

"Hello, Darcy Lewis." 

Where do these people get off on full names? Seriously? 

"My name is Gná, hand maiden to Frigga, and I am glad of the opportunity to speak with you." 

With a noisy sigh, Darcy's resolve crumbles. 

"I called you Grey Beard. You licked my plate." 

Across the room, Loki makes a very unPrincely noise, somewhere between a spit-take and a choked laugh. The cat lady previously known as Grey Beard is undeterred, however, and reaches out to clasp Darcy's hands in her own. Darcy squeezes back without meaning to. 

"You make a pretty convincing cat. I mean, I've never had a cat before-" 

Smooth operator that she is, she awkwardly pats her former pet on the hands and moves to stand up. Gná helps her, not letting go even as they stand together, barely a foot apart. It's, well, it's weird, and Darcy is struck by the uncomfortable realisation that this lady has seen her naked. The train of thought somewhat implodes when Gná leans forward to press her lips against her forehead. Okay, so the cat lady is taller. Figures. Everybody's taller than Darcy. 

She must've said that last thought out loud because she can feel soft lips curve into a smile above her brow before they disappear, and warm hands rise to rest gently against her cheeks. It's almost alarmingly intimate; her hands clench tight at her sides to stop the fidgeting or, worse, the inevitably awkward bro fist attempt. 

"Thank you, Darcy, for the kindness you have shown me. I am glad to have met you." 

"You're welcome, I guess?" 

Her cheeks cool again as the goddess steps back to join Frigga and Loki. 

"If you wish it, my lady, I shall summon Hófvarpnir for the return journey. He would not have roamed far." 

Frigga's head bows slightly and Gná turns to leave. There's a little pang in Darcy's belly and, damnit, she's going to miss the stupid fluff ball. 

"Ah, Nah? Wait just a second-" 

It doesn't take her long to find her spare bottle of syrup- Darcy always keeps a spare, always, ever since the impromptu pancake party of 2009- and then she's pressing it into Gná's hands and backing away again, faking indifference. 

"Travel safe, you crazy cat." 

Gná's responding laugh bursts out from deep in her belly and they're hugging, squeezing, giggling together, because they've bonded over chocolate and rum and everything sacred, and no, she's not sniffling again. Too soon, the goddess pulls away and leaves through the front door, and isn't that a surreal exit? 

Frigga watches Loki watch Darcy with another one of her little smiles, and Tony just looks confused and mouths 'maple syrup', and Darcy is caught between eyeing her laptop again and glaring at her blue toenails. 

The silence is just bordering on awkward when Frigga interrupts it, asking the men for a moment alone with Darcy. Well, bordering on awkward quickly becomes glaringly uncomfortable because nobody seems willing to deny the queen, but nobody particularly seems willing to move, either. It’s Tony who saves the day, walking over to amicably smack Loki's back and joke about women’s business, pushing the startled God towards the kitchen. Darcy takes a moment to hope that they don't uncover her steadily dwindling booze stash but, really, who is she kidding? God of Mischief and Tony Stark? Best case scenario, they magic her cheap booze into something with a bit of class before they commandeer the lot. 

"I would like to have had an earlier opportunity to speak with you." 

Darcy's eyebrow raises and her mouth moves independently of her mind. 

"You mean, instead of spying on me with your cat friend?" 

"It was not ideal-" 

"It was creepy, is what it was." 

"Well, I am hesitant indeed to disagree with an opinion held so strongly! May I speak quite candidly with you, my dear, as you have spoken with me?" 

Not for the first time, Darcy wonders at the direction her life is taking. Candid moments with an alien monarch aside, she's getting really and truly sick of people asking her questions but only expecting one answer. It makes her feel very itchy, and the nod of agreement comes out more as a twitch than a graceful inclination. 

"I understand that you know of Loki's true ancestry, and of his adoption into the House of Odin. The decision, right or wrong as it may have been, came from a desire to do good. Our influence was meant to guide and mould Loki into a great ally, a great brother, to bind the Aesir and the Jotun under one flag. Our people have a tumultuous history; centuries of war, of hate, and he seemed such a simple solution. But as they grew, oh, my sons, they grew into differences as complimentary as day and night. Thor is strong, so strong, and so bright. A born leader. And Loki, such a thoughtful child, from his curiosity grew an intelligence to surpass that of the Allfather. But, for all his worth, he is other. His skills lie beyond the imagination of his fellows, and they acted as men are prone to do when confronted with something they do not understand. I confess, the true depth of the damage was not clear to me until it was too late.

"He has acted badly, and I fear we have not yet seen the true reach of the damage. Loki's mischief has always had a curious nature. He brings chaos, it is true, but with his chaos there comes always an infinite opportunity for change. I've often wondered if he Sees as I See, whether perhaps he is gifted with omniscience, or whether he is simply a being of greater wisdom than our Realm has known. But I am a mother, and I am biased. Perhaps he is no more aware of the ripples of his influence than a leaf, falling gently to rest in water." 

"Okay, so, you're saying this chapter in Loki's book of crazy won't end 'til we've fixed whatever it is that needed breaking. I like it, it has symmetry, but hasn't the world already changed? The Avengers formed, didn't they? Plus, I'm pretty sure there are some top notch architects getting all up in the plans for New-New York, so..." 

"You assurances are well meant, but I fear there is still more to come. I fear that Loki knows it, that his part has not yet played out." 

"What can I do?" 

"Oh, what can any of us do with Loki? Watch him, question him, challenge him? It would surely amuse him to see it. Myself? I plan to trust in my son, as I always have. You, Darcy Lewis, will do as you please, but-" 

From the fold of Frigga's dress she pulls a small card, identical to the one hidden some metres away in the kitchen. Darcy blinks in confusion, "Where did you get that?" 

"Blood aside, I have been Loki's mother a great many years, and not without learning a trick or two about pickpocketing. If ever you have need, Darcy Lewis, or if you ever desire a friendly ear, I would be glad to hear from you." 

Darcy decides she really, really likes Loki's mother. 

The boys are finally called back into the lounge room for Frigga's departure. Neither seem particularly intoxicated but, then again, neither would be inexperienced enough to show it. Tony, for his part, is a complete gentleman, wishing Frigga a safe trip home. The queen laughs in response, giving Tony a cheeky you-should-know-better smile. 

"Why, Stark, I am surprised at you. I'd have thought you'd have remembered that the Bifrost is currently-" 

Loki stops as realisation hits Tony face-on, choosing to mimic his little 'oh' of surprise rather than complete his sentence. Perhaps the boys aren't such subtle drinkers, after all. At least they're talking. 

"So how'd you..?" 

Frigga smiles and draws first Loki, then Tony, then Darcy into a warm hug. Poor Tony's eyes look ready to explode out of his face; poor guy probably hasn't experienced that much motherly attention this side of the turn of the century. 

As Darcy draws away, Frigga answers the question. 

"In body, I remain sleeping within my chambers on Asgard. What you see before you is an Astral Projection, engineered by Loki to give my conscious form while I visit among you." 

"So, wait, you can do that with other people? I thought you just liked to replicate yourself-" 

Loki's response doesn't show on his face, rather, it shows on the faces of the twenty new Tony Starks lounging about in her apartment. Well, isn't that something. 

"How do you know which one is real? I mean, where's his mind?" 

Frigga positively beams at the question, leaning back in to Darcy to take her hand and press it against her sternum. 

"It took me years, clever Darcy, to uncover that secret, and I'm sure it will be years before I am free to disclose it." 

"But what about Nah-" 

Too late, because with her parting words, Frigga and the twenty Tonys are gone. 

It won't be until much, much later, when Darcy is alone again, that she'll sneak back to her kitchen and dig out the little slip of paper. On it, in tiny, feminine writing, she gets her answer. 

'A projection without soul beats steady and true. No conscious form can be found independent of change in heart." 

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! So! As reward for your patience, I present.... TWO POINTS OF CLARIFICATION :D
> 
> Gná is introduced in the Prose Edda as a goddess who travels the worlds on the back of Hófvarpnir, a flying, sea-riding horse who I’ve assumed is capable of interRealm travel. As she is known to run errands for Frigga, I chose her to spy on Darcy and Loki as she would be one of the only gods or goddesses capable of secreting herself to Midgard. The form of a cat was chosen because, really, what other animal could just walk into a high rise apartment and befriend the resident? Unfortunately, neither Gná nor Frigga are, to my knowledge, capable of performing the spell work necessary to transform Gná into/out of her cat form, so somebody had to help them put the spell on, and Loki had to take the spell off.
> 
> Grey Beard is a name Odin is known to take on his travels. There’s actually a poem in the Prose Edda called Hárbarðsljóð or Grey Beard’s Poem. Darcy hasn’t read it but Loki has- after all, Darcy gave him the Eddas as a housewarming gift. He laughs because the poem is basically a short story about Odin disguising himself as a traveller and being endlessly rude to Thor. I’ve got the Penguin translation and holy shitsnacks, if you get a chance, read it. It’s hilarious. First time I read it I thought Grey Beard was Marvel!Loki, just because he acts like such a dick.


	10. Tastes Like Whiskey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set post-Avengers (2012)
> 
> Darcy sets about making herself indispensable to S.H.I.E.L.D. A month later she stumbles upon an early morning meeting between Jane, Eric, Coulson, and Asgard's sexiest brothers. It looks like her early morning coffee runs are starting to pay off.
> 
> Finally! Darcy/Loki/M rating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: sexy times ahead.
> 
> Extra warning: this is my first attempt at writing the sexy times. I've spent the last two weeks writing and rewriting and staring blankly and this is the result. I.Have.No.Idea.What.I'm.Doing.
> 
> Any comments or advice (be it good/bad/indifferent) would be extra specially appreciated this chapter.
> 
> Not that they aren't always appreciated. I love your feedback. They give me the happy chills.
> 
> xxx  
> B

Iron Man, the God of Mischief, and a mortal woman walk into a bar. 

Okay, not really. As it turned out, they didn't even leave the mortal's apartment. 

Darcy had had her suspicions concerning the activities of the two geniuses (Geni? Genius-es-ess?) left alone in her kitchen during her D&M with Loki's mum. As it turned out, her fears were only slightly misplaced- yep, they'd been drinking, but Loki-only-knows where the alcohol had come from. 

"Hey, ah, Loki? This- this decanter, 's familiar." 

"That comes as no surprise, Stark. You did say you owed me a drink, did you not?" 

"You're a sneak, Laufeyson, and I like it. Cheers to that." 

Well, ok, maybe it wasn't such a mystery, Darcy muses. The two troublemakers hadn't even bothered grilling her; the moment Frigga cleared the building, Tony essentially deposited her on the couch and Loki disappeared into the kitchen, returning with an alarmingly expensive array of scotch. 

Barely an hour later, Tony has laid claim to the magicked couch, Loki is polishing what looks like a set of ornate throwing knives in his usual spot, and Darcy is sitting somewhat comfortably between the two, using the coffee table as a bar and a pillow as a seat. 

"So, Darce, spill." 

"Tony! No! Do you have any idea how many coffees I'd have to- to pour! This scotch is expensive!" 

"S'ok, Darce, I'm a gazillionaire and Loki here is magic. We'll pay someone to pour the coffees for you." 

"Hey, thanks, Tony. Nobody's ever poured the coffee for me." 

"That's what superheros are for! But, no, actually, wait, this is important. What did mumma bear want?" 

"Mumma bear?" 

"You know, mumma Loki bear. Jesus, Loki, I had no idea you were such a mamma's boy." 

Loki snorts, but levels Darcy with a curious look. For some reason Darcy can't quite focus on, Asgardians are terrible at drinking. Really, they've been practically throwing the scotches at Loki and look, he's just sitting there being all dex-. Ah. Dexterous. Yes. Dexterious. 

Darcy giggles, because that's what she does when she drins, and Tony is right, but Tony is a Pepper's boy. Feeling giddy, she tells him as such. "Aw, c'mon Stark, lay off! Pepper'll-"   
"Aw crap!" Tony flings an arm over his face and Darcy winces, mouthing a little "ow".   
"Pepper is going to not be happy." 

"Stark, stop being melodramatic. Pepper Potts withdrew her claim to happiness the moment she took you on as an employer." 

"No, but yes, I mean, that's true, but Pepper'll go to Coulson and dob me in. Did you know, his name is Phil? Did you? What kind of name is that for a, for an Agent. I told Pepper, I told her, no, Pepper, his name is Agent, but then somebody-" his arm shifts and he glares over at Loki, "- somebody stabbed him! And now it's all 'oh, Tony, be nice to Phil!' Where's my champagne, Darcy? Where's my champagne?!" 

Darcy blinks. 

"I don't like champagne. I like Coulson." 

Tony groans, "No, not you, too! Get your own champagne!" 

Darcy is confused. 

"But Tony, Coulson doesn't drink champagne either. He drinks beer." 

This seems to cheer the older man. 

"Really?" 

"Yeah." 

Tony smiles and yawns, relaxing onto his back and itching absentmindedly at his shiny glow circle through his singlet. His usual button down was discarded to take care of their second liquor spill. 

"Stark." 

"Loki." 

"I would have you tell me about the contraption in your chest." 

Darcy's eyes widen and she shoots Loki a glare. "Ugh, Loki! You don't just ask people about their shiny glow circles!" 

Tony laughs, "S'ok. Tell you what, Mad Science, if you remember to ask me again in the- when I wake up, and I mean wake up naturally, not because you get all impatient or- seriously, do not wake me up, man- but maybe we can sort a deal." 

"Ooooh, can I come too?" 

The self proclaimed super hero's eyes drift shut and he smiles sleepily. 

"Sure, Darce, you can bring the biscuits."   
Darcy's halfway through a little fantasy involving biscuits and chocolate and marshmallows when she notices that Tony is softly snoring. Excellent, she thinks, and she lurches to her feet.   
Now. Where did she leave her phone? There are Youtubes to be making! 

Two careful steps towards to her goal and there's the tickle of a chuckle at her ear and strong hands bracketing her hips. When he speaks, Loki's voice is warmer than she's ever heard it, like the tiny humans have finally managed to amuse him. "Careful now, little mortal." 

Little mortal? She snorts and she continues onwards, pulling him with her like the little engine that could. The mental image gets her laughing, and she's chanting, "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can!" 

Unfortunately, she's laughing with her eyes closed, and somehow she manages to trip forward, arms flailing but arse pulled back against Loki's legs. Well, for a bit. One of those flailing arms might, maybe, smack him in the face. 

"Odin's beard, you're annoying," Loki sighs, scooping her up to carry her over his shoulder. The vertigo silences her for a moment and she blinks. 

"I've gone blind." 

"No, Darcy, you have not gone blind." 

"I'm definitely blind. Everything is black." 

Loki responds with a little slap to her behind, making her squeal and push herself up, away from his leathery back. 

"Wait! I can see! Loki, I can see! You healed me! Look, there's the carpet! Quick, spank me again! Maybe I'll get super powers!" 

The carpet has shifted into tiles and apparently this signals the end of their journey, because she's being bodily manipulated again. It's not very pleasant; she squeezes her eyes shut until the movement stops and finds herself sitting upright on the kitchen counter. 

"I truly hope you remember this conversation when you are sober." 

"Why're we in the kitchen?" 

Loki steps back to lean a hip against the table, arms crossed and smirk firmly in place. "Because, Lady Darcy, I appear to be in a generous mood. Your whim is temporarily my command." 

Darcy's eyes widen with glee. 

"Really? How do you feel about marshmallows?" 

"I do not like the strawberry flavoured ones." 

"Oh." 

Darcy isn't sure why, but this makes her very, very sad. 

"Perhaps, if I were to obtain a packet of strawberry and vanilla marshmallows, we could split them between us? I would have the vanilla and you would have the strawberry?" 

At that moment, Darcy is sure this is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to her. At least, later, that's how she'll justify her reaction, because for some unthinkable reason she's launching herself clumsily at Loki. The moment could've, should've, been romantic, but that's not really how Darcy's life works. Somewhat embarrassingly, she completely misjudges the distance between her counter top and his table, and she's suspended in the air halfway between the two before she realises her mistake. Suspended, arms reaching out in a 'gimme, gimme' motion, but otherwise not moving. 

Loki's eyes widen and his voice takes on an admirable Southern twang."Miss Lewis, I'm shocked! Such forward behaviour!" 

"C'mere, Loki." 

"You're drunk, Darcy," he deadpans. 

"Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn. C'mere." 

"I'd rather try to enslave your bore of a race again." 

Darcy's arms drop to her sides and she pouts, "That's really mean, Loki." 

The corner of Loki's mouth seems fixed in a little upwards quirk and his eyes virtually sparkle back at her. "Villain and centuries-old wrong doer I may be, but I shan't stoop so low as to take advantage of an inebriated woman. Now, are you ready to come down?" 

If anything, Darcy's pout only grows into toddler-tantrum territory. It doesn't seem to faze him. "Yes, Loki." 

Gently, she begins to drift back down to Earth, legs kicking experimentally until she touches down. She very carefully keeps her eyes focussed on her feet as Loki begins to shift through her cupboards. Carefully, slowly, she tip toes to peer over his shoulder; it appears as though he's cheerfully searching for her hidden stash of hot chocolate melts. The sweet tooth is strong in this one. 

A devious plan begins to form in her mind. 

Sneaking in even closer, Darcy waits until he stoops low enough that the back of his head is even with hers before she blows gently to tickle the hairs at the nape of his neck. 

"Darcy Lewis," Loki growls, voice low as he turns to glare at her. They're at perfect eye level; Darcy can see the exact moment his playful green eyes sharpen in surprise as she leans forward to smack her lips sloppily against his. It occurs to her as she leans there, cheeky smile pressed against Loki's displeased frown, that she maybe should've planned a bit further ahead; she can't seem to remember what she'd meant to do next. All she knows is that she's kissing him, sort of, and he's not kissing back. Her lips drop into a frown and her eyes open. It's kinda hard to focus on him, what with their standing so close together, but it kinda looks like he's a Cyclops. A grumpy Cyclops. Is it called still a monobrow when Cyclopses only have one eyebrow? 

She's still wondering about eyebrow terminology when Loki shifts back, just far enough that their faces aren't touching and she can see just how angry he is. It surprises a gasp out of her and she moves to escape, but he's quicker, pressing one long finger against her temple. There's a moment of blinding pain and nausea, like a twenty four hour hangover crammed into one second, and suddenly she's sober and, oops, apparently in pretty deep shit. Loki isn't blinking, he's just smouldering at her, all cross and green and she maybe doesn't regret it as much as she should have. She licks her lips and they taste like whiskey. 

"Ah, sorry?" 

Apparently, not the right thing to say. Or the perfect thing to say, depending on your perspective. As far as Darcy's concerned, it was absolutely the best possible thing to have said, because the moment the apology leaves her mouth she's being spun and pressed, hard, against the pantry, the soft lines of her body giving under the weight of his. Her mouth opens in a gasp of surprise and his clever tongue licks straight inside. The pressure of his kiss is bordering on painful and she's reminded with a nip of teeth that this is a deity, no, more than that, this is an insane, mercurial magician with King-sized daddy issues, and didn't her mother always warn her about angering the Gods? Her hands dip and weave past his armour to grip at the cloth beneath, and yep, that's the sting of a blade. She hisses and bites him back, shifting her hand out of reach; the cut is superficial, she's done worse with paper. His hands are moving, too, one kneading into her hip hard enough to bruise and the other sweeping to cup the back of her skull where it was pressing into the wood behind her. 

She's lightheaded but still fighting back, pulling him closer. He's stronger; she whimpers when he tugs her head back to bare her throat, moans when he licks along the line of her pulse. 

There's just one little, nagging thought jumping about for her attention. 

"Is somebody watching?" 

He kisses her once more, long and slow, before he pulls back, giving an inch of room between them to breathe. Still, his forehead rests against hers and she can feel his every ragged exhale. Sharp green eyes open and it's exposing, being read like that. 

"No, Darcy," his voice is wrecked. "This is just you and I." 

They stand for a long moment, eyeing each other. She knows he's waiting for her decision, his gentlemanly restraint almost amusing in contrast to his flushed cheeks and glowing eyes. He needn't bother. Her mind's already made up, hell, it made its decision and vacated the damn kitchen at the first flick of his tongue against hers. It's just her body that seems to be slow on the uptake. 

"Just us?" 

She barely mouths the words but she can feel his response. His rough grip turns soothing, the tension in his face softens, and his eyes follow the movement of his own thumb as it slowly drags across her swollen lip.   
He doesn't look at her when he finally speaks and she's glad; it's embarrassing, the way she's been faltering under his watch today. 

"May I?" 

Curse his stupid, sexy, seductive, adorable everything, Darcy fumes. He has absolutely no right. If ovaries could melt, hers would be a damned mess.   
'Girl power' is her last thought before she's finally, at last moving, her tongue slipping out to draw that curious thumb between her lips in a slow, smooth movement. She leans into it, looking up to watch him watch her mouth as she gently bites down in an open suggestion. 

For a moment, it's like he's stopped breathing. Luckily, he's pretty quick on the uptake. 

His hand drops from her face, thumb snagging her lower lip, her ribs, her hips, her arse, on the way down to her thighs. Strong fingers smooth over her newly acquired track pants. He bends and lifts in a quick motion, grinding to fill the space between them and press her further against the pantry door. Her legs wrap around his hips to hold on and one hand strays from the warmth beneath his armour to smooth back his hair. 

His jaw goes slack and he's breathing hot gusts of air against her skin, their noses brushing and their lips ghosting together. She peeks across, watches the way his eyelashes flutter against his cheek, the furrow of his brow as she moves just slightly out of reach. He catches her in the act and grins, mischief and passion and just the tiniest, exciting flash of madness. That's all the warning she gets before her jumper and pyjama top disappear. No flashy sound effects, no tugging or clawing, but Loki's head dips down to press hot, open mouthed kisses along her collar bone and she's surging up, dragging herself against him to improve his access and maybe, hopefully relieve some of the ache pooling between her thighs. 

There's something really inhibiting about Asgardian clothing, especially when the guy you're trying to grind into is wearing leather and metal armour. She tries to communicate her distaste but the words catch, all she can say is, "Loki, help, I want-" as she searches blindly for a buckle, a button, hell, shoelaces for all she cares. 

She feels rather than sees his smile and suddenly they're spinning, a quick one-eighty, and then she's falling and bouncing and, hey, she's in her bedroom and there's a wicked Trickster looming over her. 

Loki's hands are graceful but slow, too slow, as he strips off his armour. She wants to retaliate, to writhe on the bed in impatience, but she's invested in what those hands are capable of and she can't seem to look away. So Darcy slides closer, kneels at the edge of the bed and helps, smoothing one hand up his chest as he pulls off his tunic, drifting the other lower to toy along the opening in his leather pants. 

Loki's body is rocking and she tells him so, earning a rich laugh that clenches his abs and, frankly, the sight is mesmerising. He's all lithe muscle and potential power and dangerous grace as he moves, something other barely hidden in a remarkably human package. A quick thought goes out to his Astral Projections and she shushes it with a 'Next time, Darcy, survive one of him before you go asking for more.' 

It's frustrating, the way they seem caught between fast and slow, between rushing and lazing, but he growls when she swipes her tongue beneath his belly button. He pushes her back, climbing down into her space and following as she shimmies back up the bed. 

"Darcy." she can feel his whisper as he leans some of his weight down onto her, mouth level with her breasts and body firmly planted between her thighs. 

She'd reply, really, she would, but she's kinda busy moaning at the nonsense words that same clever mouth is tracing against her contours, steering devastatingly clear of her nipples. He's on a second circuit of her left breast when he pauses, "Darcy, look at me." He waits there, hovering a breath away, until she blinks her eyes open and looks down. It's not dark in her room, it's the middle of the afternoon, but his eyes seem to glow regardless. 

"Darcy, I would unravel you," his tongue flattens, licking a slow circle against the circumference of her nipple. 

"I would have your every nerve drunk on sensation," a cooling breath, a hot nip, "and I would see it, I would see every piece of you as you fall apart beneath me." 

It's overwhelming. In the fight to watch, to maintain the eye contact he damn well earned, she's rolling her hips up to meet his, scraping her nails along his shoulder blades, gasping out with each new flick of his tongue and, oh, finally, he's moving lower again. 

But why is he moving so damn slow? Head falling back in frustration, Darcy swings her legs up and around his arms to push at his shoulders. Poor Loki is bewildered, eyes wide and blinking in surprise. She doesn't leave him guessing for long; with a reassuring smirk she's lifting her hips, feet still braced against him, to slide off her stupid hindering track pants and damnable undies. She's still grinning with triumph while she flings them across the room in celebration, but Loki's expression hasn't quite caught up. He seems stuck somewhere between shock and baby's first Christmas. She lowers herself back down onto the bed with a laugh, letting her legs slide up and over his shoulders and, finally, he's with the program. Hands lifting to grasp her thighs and pull her closer, Loki's eyes burn bright and he returns her smirk. His gaze doesn't waver, she's completely trapped as he dips his head and licks one long, clean line up along the swell of her cunt, swiping hot and wet across her clit just once. A startled gasp has barely escaped her before he's repeating the motion. This time, he pauses for longer, flicking his tongue and watching hers mimic the action to wet her lips. She glares, threading impatient fingers into his hair and rolling her hips to meet him. 

It's his turn to laugh now; she can feel the little breathy chuckles as his eyes crinkle at the edges and she's caught between want and awe, because she's never seen him smile like that. The moment's gone with another swipe of his tongue and soon she's writhing, gasping, pushing against the hands holding her steady. His tongue is quick and clever but, more than that, he's observant. He watches for her reactions, alternates sensations, catalogues the moves that force her to arch under his touch. Her need escalates, clenching her muscles tight in anticipation and forcing garbled pleas from her mouth. 

Her eyes remain locked on his throughout, pupils blow and lids heavy, but her control falters when long fingers massage up her thighs, brushing tantalisingly close to their apex. Her eyes slam shut and she has no idea where that noise is coming from, she's so close, but he's slowing and his mouth has moved and- "Please, Loki"- she's never been one to beg.

"Look at me, Darcy." 

His voice is deep and demanding and she's entranced, sitting up against her elbows to stare down at him. His response is a low, guttural growl that she feels down to her toes, two long fingers sliding home and curling, massaging to the pace of his tongue just right, exactly where she needs it, and she's coming, throwing her head back in silent scream.

She’s barely done, her muscles are only just starting to unclench, but Loki is moving fast, scooping her up and twisting until their chests are flush and she’s kneeling, straddling his lap. She groans, he naked beneath her, the head of his dick a hot presence against her entrance. With a blink, she clears her eyes and her mind, trying to refocus. He may have just absolutely destroyed her, but she kinda feels like she’s representing the human race here. Loki is already prejudiced enough.

She feels his hands clench before his hips rise, so she rises with him, eyes widening innocently and mouth curving into a pouty smirk. “Whoa there, buddy, it’s my turn now.”

There it is, his shocked Christmas baby expression, and she’s absolutely ruthless as she teases the head of his cock, slicking it up. She starts to roll her hips, staring into those wide green eyes until he moans and dashes forward to bite down, hard, on her neck. She rewards him, sinking down an inch before pulling back up and he hisses, throwing his head back. Circling her hips again, she licks a line up the length of his throat, nipping along his jaw. She sinks into him again, two inches this time, and repeats the motion until she can feel his shudder. Darcy smiles, draws his earlobe into her mouth for a gentle bite. “Look at me, Loki.”

He cries out and complies, but his composure is gone and his eyes are fierce. One hand reaches up to pull her head close, lock them together, and the other sets her hips in place, grip too firm for her to move. He’s in control again, he’s surging up to meet her, each thrust fast and deep and just this side of too much. It’s feral and bruising and she wants more. Their mouths are open and close, breathing each other’s air, tasting each other’s moans. She can’t tell how long they stay like that, humid and slick and crashing together, before she’s coming again, clenching down around him and quivering, too sensitive. It’s drawn out and dizzying, the way he keeps pushing and taking until he’s coming, too, a shout breaking free before she can muffle it with a kiss.

They’re still sitting there minutes later, still wrapped around each other and breathing hard. Slumping up against him, Darcy’s too comfortable to let herself slide off, and for his part Loki seems equally content to just slump against her. Unfortunately, with awareness comes a certain sticky situation that she’d really rather not think about, and she shifts slightly to get comfortable. It’s enough to draw him out and he sighs, twitching his fingers and shifting them to lie down, side by side. She turns her head to look at him, lying there so peacefully on his back. His eyes are closed, finally, and the intensity is gone. She hums to herself. Magical spunk removal aside, she thinks, this is probably her favourite accidental awesome discovery of the week.


	11. The Afternoon After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set post-Avengers (2012)
> 
> Darcy sets about making herself indispensable to S.H.I.E.L.D. A month later she stumbles upon an early morning meeting between Jane, Eric, Coulson, and Asgard's sexiest brothers. It looks like her early morning coffee runs are starting to pay off.
> 
> Darcy/Loki/M rating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my darlings, long time no see!
> 
> I'm sorry to have kept you waiting so long, I really am. I'd give you my list of excuses, but after such a long hiatus I'd hate to keep you waiting even longer. 
> 
> This is my tumblr:
> 
> http://judgexjuryxexecutioner.tumblr.com/
> 
> It's mostly just reblogged fandom stuff, but if you ever want to chat/ tell me off for taking so long to update, please feel free ^.^
> 
> A big thank you to everyone for reading and being patient and not hunting me down to murder me slowly in my sleep.
> 
> This chapter is mostly me trying to get the giant ball of "WRITING IS HARD" rolling again, so it isn't plot-heavy. Apologies. 
> 
> xxx
> 
> B

Darcy literally wakes up on the wrong side of the bed. She's a good metre away from her alarm clock, and without her glasses, she's got no idea when she is. Nuzzling her face into her pillow, she lets out a petulant whine and pulls the covers up over her head. There's fuzz between her ears, like she's been asleep for too long or not long enough.

In the end, it takes her a good ten minutes to convince herself to roll over to her bedside table, find her glasses, and figure out that it's not 5am, it's 5pm. After that, things start moving along pretty quickly. Not literally; she's actually kinda frozen in shock. Her mind, though, that's catching up with a vengeance, supplying her with little flashes from the morning. There's the smell of whisky or scotch or whatever the hell she'd been drinking, the flash of inquisitive green eyes, the taste of someone else's breath, and, oh god, she slept with the enemy. She slept with the enemy before lunch time on a faux sick day. With Iron Man in the house. Right after she met his mother.

Darcy lurches upright, because, crap, Iron Man is in the house, and, crap, where the hell is Loki, and, double crap, she's still naked.

There's a hurricane of movement as Darcy finds denim and socks and a giant Disney-themed hoodie she'd originally bought to poke fun at an ex but, whatever, men's clothes are super comfy. She stops before she opens the bedroom door to find her inner calmness or chi or whatever it is people channel to stop them from freaking out when they've boned good looking aliens. Deep breaths.

Slowly, carefully, she eases open the door. Socked feet tip toe forward until she's hidden behind the door frame to the lounge room. There are voices. Oh, god, there are voices. They've killed each other and S.H.I.E.L.D. is here to pick up the pieces and somehow in autopsy they'll figure out that she slept with Loki and then, what? It's a new crime, isn't it? Sleeping with the numero uno alien threat? So they can punish her however they want, can't they? The public probably won't even get told, so they could torture her or something, and- and actually, that sounds like Loki talking.

And they wouldn't need to cut Loki open to know that they've slept together, anyway. He's been feeding them lies since day one.

"It was hardly my intention, Stark."  
"I don't give a damn."  
"Stop wriggling."  
"YOU stop wriggling."  
"Very mature."  
"YOU'RE mature. Ow, Jesus!"  
"I told you to hold still."

Okay, Darcy reasons, they haven't killed each other yet. She's trying to figure out just what the hell they're doing, but her mind's eye is pulling up a massive blank. There's the sound of metal grating against metal, and she's done with eavesdropping.

"What the he-"

Loki and Tony turn to her in unison. Or, at least, their faces do, wearing matching expressions of surprise. The room has returned to its natural, pre-Frigga state, and Tony is slumped dejectedly on her corner of the couch, pouting, with one arm extended so that his hand hovers in Loki's lap. Loki himself is curved around the other man's hand, long fingers poking and prodding at the Iron Man glove with the air of a small child studying an insect under a magnifying glass.

"Um, so, I can't even-" she pauses, blinks. They're still staring at her, staring at them.

"Um. Are you- can- um. Is there- is this- do you both consent to whatever the hell this is?"

Tony groans, his head falling back to rest against the couch. "This is so embarrassing."

Loki's attention shifts back to the glove with a smirk.

"So... Do I need to call someone? Is this- Tony, is he bad touching you?"

"Relax, Darcy. I won Stark's consent quite fairly. He is simply being a poor loser. There is much he could learn from the fair maidens of your classical literature."

It's only then that Darcy notices the chess board, its pieces discarded haphazardly as though someone- definitely Stark- had swiped a hand through the game in exasperation. The poor, put-upon man in question kicks his feet against the couch and glares at Loki out of the corner of his eye under the pretense of staring at the roof. While blatantly displeased, Darcy reasons that he's probably got the situation under some semblance of control if they're not outright throwing punches, so she inches closer to supervise.

"Time, sirs."

Darcy starts at the sound of JARVIS, coming from Tony's abandoned tablet. 

"Hey there, bro-bot, what's the buzz?"

"If you are inquiring into my own buzz, Miss Lewis, it remains, as always, limited by the overactive imagination and impatience of my charge. If you're attempting to understand his current predicament-"

"That'll be all, JARVIS. Darcy- beautiful Darcy. Sweet, empathetic, caring, Darcy. Have I ever told you how much I admire and adore you?"

Tony has retracted his hand from Loki's possession and, sadly, aimed his giant puppy dog eyes straight at her. It's like staring into the soul of a really tousled, sexy Care Bear. Well, okay, that's an exaggeration, but Darcy has had a very strange day and her mind is hardly running at all systems go right now. She rejects the idea to wheedle information from the caffeine-deprived super hero and instead turns to the kitchen, mumbling nonsensically as she goes.

By the time she returns, three steaming mugs of caffeine hugged tight to her chest, Tony is packing up his brief case, flagellating his arms, and arguing into a head set.

“Pepper- okay, yes- I thought we agreed that was- no, Pepper, where’s Happy? Get Happy, I want to talk to- yes, Happy, he’s on my side- no, this isn’t the same thing, would you just- actually, that’s a great idea, except I gave it to Bruce. Make another- Pepper, fine, no, stop, I’m coming, don’t-“

So, Darcy very carefully keeps her eyes on Tony- you know, because he might accidentally break something, not to avoid giving away the top secret elephant in the room by making eye contact with her accidental bedfellow and blurting out a confession, why would you think that?- and plonks the coffees in reach of their respective intendeds. Her own mug is pressed to her lips, the better to breath in the smell of happiness.

“Bye, Pepper. I’m hanging up. No- yes, that’s what I just said, would you just-“ 

Closing his eyes, Tony picks up his coffee and drains it in one go.

“Okay. Going. Mmhmm. Darcy,” those Care Bear eyes are open and back to their usual hyper-focused state. Danger, Will Robinson. Very, very carefully, Darcy returns his stare, raising him a quirked eyebrow.

Tony squints and bends forwards, looking for clues, but Darcy is a strong, independent white girl who don’t need no- oh. Tony is leaving.

“Well, as fun as it’s been, duty calls. What day is it? Is there work tomorrow? I’ll see you at the lab. Yep. Okay. Going.”

Exit stage left, Iron Man.

If her life were a play, crickets would start chirping.

Luckily, the apartment is dead silent, so, yay, no pest infestations. Just an awkward silence. On one hand, she’d really like to know what they talked about in her absence. On the other hand, coffee. She takes another deep breath and a noisy slurp. 

“So. Loki.”

She still isn’t looking at him, but she can feel it the moment he slides from introspection to fully present.

“Yes, Miss Lewis?”

“Oh, don’t you even.”

He smiles. Not that she’s looking.

“So, hey, remember the time you totally ravished me? Does that count as me sacrificing myself for a god, or was that you worshipping at the altar of Darcy? Historians will want to know.”

There’s a snort from the other end of the couch, but it can’t possibly have come from the Prince of Proper. Darcy turns to him with a grin, eyebrows wiggling and legs stretching out for his lap.

“Careful, there, big shot. Can’t have the commoners seeing you all wrath-less.”

He returns her grin with a flash of teeth. “It is true. To consort with one’s jester is hardly the act of a merciless god.”

“Jester? You wound me.”

“You amuse me.”

Its Darcy’s turn to snort and his expression softens.

"You amuse me. It is as though your personality itself is undecided. You are cynical, but you are childish and naive. You are fiercely protective of yourself and those you care about, and yet you befriended the God of Lies on a whim. You are small and weak, and yet you fight tooth and nail with your betters. You are nonsensical, you are counter-intuitive, and you are so very disgustingly trivial, and yes, you amuse me."

She can’t maintain eye contact. Instead, she swaps her mug for a cushion to hug to her belly. "Shouldn't that bother you?"

"With each century that passes I find myself treasuring these small amusements where I can. Besides, is it not somewhat poetic that I find interest here in the planet I earlier condemned? Interest in a human that so outrageously embodies so many of humanity’s flaws?"

"Dude, you treasure me? That's so corny."

She can feel him smiling again, a quirk of the lips somewhere above her field of vision.

"Perhaps."


	12. Two's Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set post-Avengers (2012)
> 
> Does not take into account Iron Man 3 or Thor 2.
> 
> Darcy sets about making herself indispensable to S.H.I.E.L.D. A month later she stumbles upon an early morning meeting between Jane, Eric, Coulson, and Asgard's sexiest brothers. It looks like her early morning coffee runs are starting to pay off.
> 
> Darcy/Loki/M rating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're all probably (quite justifiably) unhappy that I've been so absent. I've just finished my end of year exams- two of which concluded with several of my classmates bursting into tears- so I'm somewhat exhausted. I hope the chapter hasn't suffered for it. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me despite my, ah, general crappiness. Your feedback has been wonderful- frankly, it's what's keeping the story going. After high school, my family said, "why not become a writer?"
> 
> I said, "nah, writing sounds hard, I'll go into medicine and become a doctor."
> 
> I am a stupid.
> 
> Anyway, enough of that! I hope you enjoy this chapter.
> 
> xxx
> 
> B

Darcy manages to avoid Tony for two weeks. It's terrible. She doesn't like hiding from her BFF, and she particularly doesn't like trying to toe the line between sneaky and suspicious in the company of professional spies. Loki finds her predicament amusing. In fact, he seems to take pleasure from being as vague as possible when she grills him. From what she can make out, Loki had wandered into the lounge room, waking Tony in the process, and then they played a game of chess in a battle for information. Loki's winnings were 10 minutes to examine the Iron Man glove. She thinks. The whole thing sounds suspicious to her. Loki is silent as the grave when he wants to be, which is always, so there's no way he'd wake anyone up by accident. Unfortunately, he can slither into and out of conversations as easily as he can shadows, and when she tries to literally pounce him and demand answers, he goes into a nausea-inducing lecture about the importance of "brotherhood" and "bro code" and the evolution of fraternalisation. Needless to say, she falls asleep. Needless to say, she wakes up frustrated.

Frankly, if he's going to insist on evading her, she'd rather he take a leaf out of the book of every guy she's ever seen, ever, and try to seduce her. Not that she'd let him, obviously. She's been very careful to act as though nothing has happened. Too careful, maybe, because the guy isn't even trying. It'd just be nice, you know, to show off her excellent self control.

The point remains, on the two week anniversary of Frigga's visit, Darcy is walking back from the little girl's room and hears the beloved, sarcastic tones of her favourite A.I. coming from the main lab. Her forward momentum has already carried her past the doorway, and to backpedal would draw attention. So, in a moment of perfect clarity and grace, she makes a sharp right and veers straight into the nearest supply closet. And then locks the door. Subtly.

There's a moment of quiet in the dark. Darcy clears her mind, rolls her shoulders, and takes a moment to contemplate the location of the light switch. There's a faint blue circular glow coming from the corner, and- aw. Shit.

"Hey, Tony."

"Oh, Darcy. Didn't see you there."

"Yeah. Uh. Cool digs."

"Oh, yeah, you know, just looking for Fury's sense of humour."

There's an awkward silence, broken only by the little ratta-tatta-tat of Tony's fingers drumming against the wall.

"So, I'll just-"  
"I'm, like, 90% sure there's a-"

Between the two of them, someone manages to switch on the light. It doesn't make the situation any less awkward.

Darcy is drowning in a slippery slope of guilt when it occurs to her that, wait, this is Tony persistent-as-a-rash Stark she's been avoiding. Just like that, she's able to look at his face.

Eyes flicking. The steady clickety-click of a stylus against the metal frame of the stationary cabinet. Tony has something to hide.

Oh my god, she thinks. Oh, my god. Oh. My. God. She isn't a manic teenager anymore, but it occurs to her that this might actually, no exaggeration, kill her.

"Please tell me you didn't sleep with Loki."

Way to make things less awkward, Darcy, she thinks. 

"What the hell are you talking about, Darcy?!" Tony screeches.

She actually sags, because that is Tony's genuinely bewildered face, and she hasn't just inadvertently entered into the most bizarre love triangle to ever exist in the history of the concept of superheros. Unfortunately, Tony is somewhat known for being a perceptive cookie.

"Darcy. Darcy, look at me. Darcy, did you sleep with- you're kidding. No. I can't believe it. This is going to kill Coulson."

Okay, that actually sounded more gleeful than furious. She can work with that.

"Shut up! Coulson doesn't need to know. Nobody needs to know, Tony. This is strictly between us, okay? Bro code."

"You're kidding, right? You don't think this might be, I don't know, relevant to the whole interRealm relations situation we've got going on right now? Fury is going to freak-"

"TONY! Shhhhh-ut up. Seriously. It was one time. And don't you pull the interRealm relations card on me- you think I didn't see you literally handing Iron Man specs over to the big bad?"

"Hey, whoa, accusations-"

"Literally, Tony. Your hand was in his lap. At least you were, heh, gloved up for the occasion-"

"Slow down-"

"You're still looking shifty."

"Hey-"

"Oh my god, are you two still having chess dates?"

"Dates? I'm hearing some subtle jealousy undertones here-"

Darcy claps a hand over Tony's mouth, expression fierce. He licks her palm. She remains strong in the face of salivary adversity.

"Okay, here's the deal. I spend an afternoon of glorious passion with Loki, which is still less than the nightly love fest S.H.I.E.L.D. thinks we're having. You have totally been spending your afternoons gambling information with him. Neither of us want Fury to rain down on our parades. So, I propose a deal. I'm going to slowly remove my hand and wipe it on your expensive shirt, and then we are going to sit down like adults and calmly not alert the entire building to our poor lifestyle choices."

She can actually feel Tony's mouth open in objection, but she summons up a glare so intense it shifts the frame of her glasses up her nose. Slowly, cautiously, he nods. Slowly, cautiously, she lifts her hand from his spit-slimy face, and, without dropping eye contact, she wipes the mess on his shirt. She nods. He nods. Simultaneously, they sit down on the carpet.

Jane opens the door.

"Hey, ah, guys? Far be it for me to force you out of the closet before you're ready-"

Tony and Darcy both snicker.

"- but it's just me and Jarvis out there, and I said Darcy could hold her own but he seems to think it isn't Darcy we should be worried for, so."

Tony leaps up with an indignant, "Jarvis!"

“TONY,” Darcy glares.

“Darcy,” Jane questions.

“Dar-cy,” Tony whines.

“Miss Lewis,” Jarvis interjects, “if I may interject-“

“Okay. Everybody hush. Tony and I just found out that we’re sort of dating the same God and we need to, you know, compare notes.”

There’s suddenly a lot of movement. Jane swishes her hair back and forth, mouth agape, trying to stare at both Tony and Darcy. Tony, for his part, backs up a few steps and raises both hands. His face scrunches and squints with the force of his internal monologue. There’s a tiny electrical whirr as every camera in the building spins and focuses on their little group in the corner. Darcy, legs lotus-crossed, proudly considers herself to be the calm in the middle of the storm. She lets out a deep, happy sigh.

“So what happened to super secret, huh?”

“Jane doesn’t count, right Jane? I mean, obviously I couldn’t tell you before, right, but all this secrecy between us makes me feel all constipated. Hey, ah, Jay, you’re keeping the room all nice and private, right?”

“Of course, Miss Lewis.”

Okay. She can handle this. It actually feels a lot like relief. Loki may be keeping fairly low key, she smirks to herself, but it’s still sort of a big deal to be keeping secrets with him. And it’s not like she has to tell them everything. Tony may be gently banging his head against the door frame, but she’s sure it’s a load off his mind, too.

“So, okay, Jane, turns out that Loki and I have been chilling after work most days, right? No biggie. I mean, the bossmen think we’re fooling around, but that’s just Loki tugging their strings. Anyway, turns out Tony’s been spending some time with him, too. 

Jane’s pony tail comes to a gentle stop as she fixes her scary-big scientist eyes on Darcy. “Oh my god, Darcy, I knew you guys were hanging out, but- okay. You know what? Never mind. I so do not need to hear about- Actually, you know what? I’m not even surprised. Can we just- can we-“ 

“Jane, relax,” Darcy sighs, leaning back on her hands. “He’s been totally boring. Last night, right, we get home and he seriously did not move from the couch. I’m talking, he was still there when I went to bed. His butt is probably covered in bed sores.” 

His butt is not covered in bed sores. Tony’s might be, though, because he twitches. It’s almost funny, because he twitches with his entire body.

“Hold up, last night? Loki wasn’t with you, he was with-“

Enter the most dramatic, soap-opera pause of Darcy’s life. She fills it with a soft, “son of a bitch.”


	13. Intermission: hello my lovelies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little note to say hi and to hopefully give you some good news.

Hello my lovelies,

I am so so sorry to have been gone for so long. I've had a sort of funny year- I don't want to bore you with details, but its made things a bit hard on the writing front, and for my bizarro hiatus I am truly sorry. I've always despaired when other authors have kept me waiting, and I'm shocked that (a) I've taken the same path and (b) there are people out there who'd like me to keep writing. Every time I've gotten an AO3 email regarding kudos or comments its both broken my heart and given my self esteem a little boost- an odd combination, but it works for me, and I've decided to stow my crap and get back to writing. My last exam for this period is on Saturday, so (fingers crossed) if you check this space around Wednesday next week there'll be another chapter.

I honestly don't think I can put into words how much your comments have meant to me. I sat here thinking I'd write to the people who've left comments during my hiatus individually but I'd like for everyone to get the same message. Your support and kind words have meant a lot to me during a difficult year, and I hope I can make it up to you. If I can't make it up to you in words, I make a pretty mean m&m cookie, so there's always a backup plan.

If anyone would ever like to chat, please feel free to say hi on here or on tumblr.

Anyway, sending you all my thanks and my appreciation. Until next week,

B


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